


Frozen Fire

by GrayWing



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Disney, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Magic-Users, Other, Plot Twists, Sister-Sister Relationship, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-24 03:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 105,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2567069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrayWing/pseuds/GrayWing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months before her coronation, Elsa meets a mysterious pair of royal twins and their fates become intertwined - for better or worse. As the events unfold both before and after the movie, she learns more about herself and the powers that have been a mystery her entire life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Nothing but darkness and dust lined the walls of the wooden cabin where the king and his daughter sat, heads heavy and eyes trained on the floor as the ship rocked forward and back again. The only light came from the flame of a single candle by the king’s bedside, bathing half of his bearded face in soft orange light.

“Are you really going through with this, Sophie?” he asked, breaking a long, loud silence.

Sophie looked up at him over the spectacles that clung to the end of her slender nose. “I don’t really have a choice, Father. You know that.”

The ship lurched forward again, threatening to spill King Harold from the bed. He put a steadying hand down next to him and fought the urge to vomit. “Urgh… how did it ever come to this?” he asked, more to himself than to his daughter. Sophie stood, pacing, and answered anyway.

“A better question for my brother, your _son_. If we ever see him again, you can ask him, but don’t get your hopes up. After all that’s happened, after the Snow Queen came into our lives, the odds of us ever having a happy family reunion are slim to none…”

Harold’s face sunk at the mention of his son, and he fell quiet.  Sophie stopped her pacing and turned towards him. “I’m sorry, Father, I shouldn’t… look, I know that –“ she started to say but was cut off when a soldier clad in crimson armor appeared at the doorway.

“Er, Princess Sophie?” he said, a bit uneasy. “Arendelle is within sight, your highness. Your presence has been requested on deck.”

Sophie took one last quick glance at the king, who gave her a fatherly nod and sunk back into his bed, succumbing to his sickness and his exhaustion. She gave him a solemn kiss on the cheek and exited.

The princess climbed the stairs of the massive ship into the bitter coldness. The red and black cloak embroidered with the flame sigil of Astor that clung to her shoulders did little to block the raging northern wind that cut through her body and made her very bones shiver. _This is the North, just like I remember,_ Sophie thought, pulling the cloak a little tighter and making her way to the bow of the ship.

Soldiers stood aside one by one as they noticed their princess’ presence. She put a hand on the hilt of the sword at her hip as she squinted into the distance. Sure enough, the white fjord of the northern mountains was in view, and the highest tower of the castle of Arendelle was just peaking up over an icy cliff on the horizon.

“Prepare yourselves!” Sophie called out to the men within earshot. “Today is a good day for a battle!”

The men around her jumped to action with a shout somewhere between fear and excitement. Sophie put a foot up on the bow and gazed out at the seemingly endless fleet of ships around her. Two hundred battleships strong crashed through the water in a tight formation, their masts all proudly flying the flag of Astor, the bright red flame making the very sea look ablaze. _Only a few short hours before this finally begins. I just hope that it ends as quickly._

A hand appeared suddenly on Sophie’s shoulder and she almost jumped. She felt an unnatural heat on her back and a pit in her stomach, and she knew who was standing behind her. “Are you prepared?” he asked, his voice deep and hollow. It was a command more than a question, but Sophie gave a confident nod. “I know you will do me well, Black Swan. Bring me the Ice Witch and the head of that traitor brother of yours and I promise your happiness now and forever. Of course, there are other ways this battle could go, and I don’t think you’d like those nearly as well.” Then his presence was gone, and Sophie exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath.

She inhaled the cold winter air through her nose, savoring the smell of the sea not yet tainted by blood. “I hope you’re ready, Snow Queen,” she said aloud, the wind swallowing her words.

A sudden gust came from the direction of Arendelle, whipping Sophie’s cloak across her face and chilling her through and through.

The princess fixed her glasses and smirked. “My, my. That’s a good answer.”

 

 

 

 


	2. Expectations

**March 19th, 1844**

**Four months before Coronation Day**

* * *

 

"You what?" Elsa spat, sitting up in her chair and slamming her open palms onto the desk in front of her.

"It's already in the works, Elsa. I know that you don't particularly enjoy the company of others," the balding man paused, assessing the girl's reaction. She didn't protest, so he continued, "but I think it is necessary. You and Anna have not exactly been social butterflies, especially in the last year." He added the last few words tactfully.

Elsa knew he was right. She and Anna had never been good at meeting people and presenting themselves as proper royalty to the people of Arendelle, but ever since their parents were lost at sea just over a year ago, both girls had barely even seen the light of day, much less made time for social interaction.

The future queen felt like she had a good reason for that, but she was aware that to an outsider her constant avoidance of social situations and self-inflicted isolation must seem more than a little strange, especially for a future monarch.

Still, the idea of inviting all of the nobles from the city and even royalty from distant kingdoms to the castle for a formal banquet seemed like a massive chore to the young queen and the anxiety that came with it was unbearable. Elsa fiddled with her gloves.

"What about Anna? She's only seventeen and has hardly ever been around boys, much less noblemen and princes, and – "

"Anna is a perfectly smart and capable young woman, I'm sure that she will be fine."

The regal fellow speaking to Elsa from across the desk was Abram, an aging, gentle man that had been the King's former adviser and old friend. He had taken over most of the acting royal duties since the King's tragic death until his daughter came of age, an arrangement that had been made many years ago in preparation for the unlikely event that the King was ever killed. Unfortunately, it had turned out to be a necessary foresight.

Abram had always been like an uncle to the pair of princesses, having watched them grow up since the day they were born, and Elsa knew that deep down he had their best interests in mind as the acting ruler. With that reassuring thought, she sighed and sat back down.

"Will I have to dance?" she muttered.

The man smiled at her sudden change in attitude. "Elsa, you're twenty years old and soon to be the ruler of an entire kingdom. You don't have to do anything you don't want to." When she looked up inquisitively, he added, "But you must at least attend the banquet, of course. I have to put my foot down somewhere." Her face fell again as she accepted her fate.

"Look, I know that you would prefer to remain outside of the spotlight," said Abram. "But the people of Arendelle need to at least get to know you _somewhat_ before you become their queen. I've heard rumors that some of the noblemen think you're just some looney shut-in. They need to know that you are capable of ruling the kingdom." Abram saw her expression change to an obvious look of insecurity. "And I strongly believe that you are. They just need to get to know you like I do. And Anna, too. I'm sure that they will agree with me when they see what lovely young ladies you are."

"Okay…" Elsa conceded, standing up and turning to leave her father's former office."But if any princes offer me their hand in marriage, I swear I'll have your head on a pike when I'm queen."

The rare joking remark from the blonde brought a warm smile to Abram's face. Just before Elsa was about to exit the room, he spoke up. "Elsa... this will be a social event, my dear. God forbid you may even have a little bit of fun?" He put a strange emphasis on the last word, as if questioning if the girl even knew its meaning.

Elsa just gave the man a shy smile and closed the door, trying to remember the last time she experienced anything close to fun.

* * *

 

News about the banquet spread throughout the city like wildfire. Finally, the mystery that shrouded the future monarch would come to light. Princess Elsa was going to make a public appearance.

Of course, only the nobles would be able to meet her, but even that was enough to stir excitement in all the people of Arendelle, common-folk and noblemen alike. After the King and Queen's death nearly two years ago, gossip regarding the future queen became a hot topic in every inn and pub in the city. Elsa was known as nothing more than the shut-in blonde daughter of King Agdar, a mysterious shade of the former king. She was a ghost, a fairytale, a creature of legend.

Rumors began to spread through hushed whispers and drunken conversations as speculation ran rampant.

_I heard she's some kind of deformed beast. You know, with more arms than fingers..._

_My friend told me the princess has some kind of disease. Just one touch and you'll be sick as a dog for weeks..._

_Rumor has it, the King and Queen had a son. Princess Elsa killed him as an infant, the murderous witch..._

Most came to believe that there was something wrong with the girl. What other reason could there be for hiding the princess and locking the gates? Only a few chose to believe in a more pragmatic viewpoint. Perhaps the girl was just shy and reserved. Perhaps the former King believed she would be a better ruler if removed from public perception and opinion. Either way, there was one thing that the whole city agreed upon - Princess Elsa's treatment of her future subjects had been cold to say the least.

If only they knew the half of it.

* * *

 

Elsa stared at her reflection in the mirror as she fixed her hair into a tight bun. A nervous pair of icy blue eyes stared back at her.

 _Okay. Just control yourself. You can do this. Most of the attention will be on Anna anyway_.

The banquet was less than two hours away and Elsa couldn't remember the last time she had been so anxious to get something over with. This would mark the first formal event in which she would be the centerpiece and just the thought of being surrounded by high-nosed noblemen judging her every movement, kissing her hand, trying to impress her, win her over – it all made Elsa want to hurl. She felt a knot in her stomach as she pulled on her blue silk gloves, completing her outfit.

The only thing that put Elsa's mind at ease was the fact that Anna would be by her side, although the redhead was surely not feeling the same reservations as her sister. Elsa recalled exactly how excited Anna had been when she heard about the banquet - she had nearly caused Kai to drop an entire tray of dishes with a deafening squeal and sprinted off to choose a gown to wear, dragging a bewildered Gerda along with her. Elsa figured she could simply hide behind the veil of enthusiasm that her sister would provide at the banquet and fade into the background, allowing the redhead to soak up the attention she so dreaded.

However, there was no avoiding interaction with the nobles and Abram's words held true.

_Just as long as I don't have to dance…_

A knock at Elsa's door interrupted her thoughts. She expected to hear an eager Anna on the other side, but instead it was Gerda who called through.

"Your Majesty, if I may have a moment?"

"What is it, Gerda?"

"It's your sister, Majesty…"

"Anna? Is she alright?"

"You'd best see for yourself." Elsa quickly exited and followed the hallway down to Anna's room, the maid in tow.

When she reached Anna's door, she heard a loud sneeze from the other side. Before Elsa had a chance to knock, there was another sneeze, then another. The blonde waited for her sister's fit to end before making her presence known.

"Anna? Are you feeling alright?" she asked, putting her face close to the door.

"Yup! Never better! Jus' getting ready for da – achoo! sniff - Banquet!" Anna replied.

"Her Majesty awoke with a fever this morning and I've been bringing her tea and tissues all day," said Gerda. "Nothing more than a common cold, I expect, no need for concern. However the princess needs her rest. I'm afraid she is in no condition to attend the banquet tonight, although the stubborn girl will never admit it."

Elsa sighed and cursed the universe for its terrible timing. No matter how much she dreaded facing the banquet without Anna, she wasn't willing to risk her sister's health over it, even though she knew that it would break the younger girl's heart.

"Anna, I'm coming in…" she said and opened the door, revealing the almost comical sight of her sister halfway into fixing her mess of hair, red locks jutting out in every direction. She looked horrible. Her face was pale, her nose was red and chaffed, and she looked as if she only got a couple hours of sleep. Despite all of that, she was still dressed in her extravagant green dress that she had chosen to wear to the banquet and was fixing her hair with a vigor that let Elsa know she had absolutely no intention of staying in bed for the rest of the evening.

"H-Hi Elza. You ready for da banquet?" she asked through a stuffed nose, attempting to act as if nothing was wrong.

"Yes, but you certainly are not. You're ill, Anna, you need to rest. I know you were looking forward to this banquet but I'm afraid that you'll have to miss it."

"No, I-I'm fine, I promise!" Anna protested before letting out another sneeze and beginning a coughing fit that made Elsa step back slightly to avoid the spray of germs.

"No, you're not. I'm afraid you're just going to have to stay in bed. You won't enjoy yourself anyway if you can't even make it through a sentence without coughing up a lung," Elsa said and walked her sister over to the bed. She was pleased to see that the redhead did not resist, although the look on her face was the epitome of disappointment.

"Thiz iz so unfair…" Anna lamented, lying back on the bed in defeat.

"There will be other banquets, Anna, I promise," Elsa said, unsure of the truth behind even her own words. Her sister appeared to mirror that doubt, although she didn't say it.

"Mhm… Just have some fun for me okay?" She sighed and pulled the covers over herself, clearly so exhausted that she didn't mind falling asleep in her full dress. She closed her eyes and began to doze off before Elsa could even respond. The blonde couldn't help but smile as she closed the curtains of Anna's window, extinguished the lights, and quietly excused herself from the room to let her sister rest.

_Fun. Right. That seems to be the expectation for me tonight. I suppose I'll just have to try._


	3. The Twins of Astor

The stars hung heavy in the sky on the beautiful Northern Kingdom night. Torches illuminated the path that preceded the castle gates as a crowd began to form in eager anticipation to meet their future queen. The banquet was set to begin within the hour and the castle of Arendelle was the most popular place in the city. 

Every noble in the kingdom had received an invitation and none of them would be caught dead anywhere else that evening. The banquet was the talk of the town. How often was there a chance to meet the ever-elusive princess Elsa face to face?

Royalty from kingdoms both near and far were also in attendance. Abram had chosen carefully which royal families he extended an invitation to, knowing that the turnout of the banquet would rely heavily on the compatibility of its guests. He was careful not to invite any two kingdoms with a history of conflict or bad blood between them and he had spent hours choosing the perfect combination of royal parties to make the night a success.

Of course, sending royalty all the way to Arendelle just for a banquet proved to be a large task for most of the monarchs, even those in the Northern Kingdoms. In the end, only six royal families sent representatives to the banquet. Four Kings and four queens, a duke, and several princes and princesses had arrived in the harbor that morning all travelling by some of the largest and most extravagant ships that had ever graced the waters of Arendelle. The harbor was a beautiful sight to behold as the massive vessels docked there, a true display of expert craftsmanship, each one more magnificent than the last. An array of different emblems and sigils flew proudly from every ship - when a royal family decides to grace another kingdom with their presence, they tend to make damn sure it was known.

Among the growing crowd that mulled about the walkway near the gates were a pair of royal twins, Prince Aaron and Princess Sophie of the Kingdom of Astor, standing slightly aloof, watching the crowd with stoic expressions and trying not to call attention to themselves.

“When does this thing start?” said Sophie to her brother as she adjusted her sleek spectacles and folded her arms. “I can already tell I’m going to need several glasses of wine to make it through tonight.”

“Please don’t drink _too_ much, Fi. We don’t want to become known as the drunken twin idiots from the west that made fools of themselves in front of the queen of Arendelle. First impressions are...important,” Aaron replied.

“Well if Father didn’t want us to make fools of ourselves, he should have come himself. If I’m going to meet some whack-job Princess who has never even left her castle before, I’m going to at least do it with a glass of wine in my hand.”

Aaron sighed and conceded defeat. He harbored similar reservations about meeting the Princess, after all. He found himself feeling a mixture of curiosity and anxiety about what she would be like, thinking back to what his father had said to him before he left Astor: "Make an impression. A good standing with Arendelle could be exactly what our kingdom needs." In other words: "Try to court the princess because that's your job as a prince." Aaron had simply rolled his eyes.

Sophie tapped her foot impatiently. “You better have a drink or two as well. You’ll need it if you’re going to woo this weirdo princess like Father wants you to.”

Aaron scowled. “I won’t be wooing anyone tonight. Father can believe what he wants but I don’t think it’s right to come as a guest to another kingdom for the sole purpose of courting the hostess. I’ll marry who and when I want. Besides, don't we have bigger problems to worry about?"

“Still holding out for _true love_ then?” Sophie said teasingly and shrugged. “You always were a hopeless romantic. Fine then, I’ll just tell father that you flirted with her and got wine thrown in your face. He’ll definitely buy that.”

Aaron opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted when the large castle gates finally swung open and a plump red haired man cleared his throat to address the crowd outside. Everyone hushed immediately and listened.

“Welcome to the castle of Arendelle! I am Kai, head house servant of the castle. I would like to thank you all for attending this evening. The banquet will be underway shortly, so please come inside with your invitations in hand and I will show you all to the great hall.”

“Finally,” Sophie huffed as she began to make her way to the front of the crowd. Aaron trailed behind sluggishly, running a hand through his jet black hair and trying to ignore his strange nervousness.

Each guest slowly made their way inside, presenting their invitations to Kai as they passed the threshold and were herded by servants to the Great Hall. The nobles gasped with delight upon seeing the grand decorations that lit up the room, complete with a myriad of ice sculptures in every shape from an elegant swan to an enormous leaping marlin. The tables were all beautifully set with the most expensive silverware and china the castle had to offer and the food was artfully laid out on an enormous table at the far end of the room. A small orchestra was setting up in the corner, performing last-minute tuning exercises on their instruments as their audience filed in. The smell of the pot roast filled the room. Abram sat near the front of the hall, watching the guests arrive with a contented smile.

By far the most beautiful thing in the room, however, was the blonde standing next to Abram at the front of the great hall with her hands folded politely in front of her watching the guests file in with an expression somewhere between fear and humbleness. Elsa was dressed modestly – she had allowed Gerda to pick out her dress, a rather plain but elegant purple gown that covered her shoulders and flowed gracefully to her ankles. Her hair was pinned up in her usual, clean fashion, and of course she was wearing long silk gloves that reached her elbows and complimented her dress with a certain queenly composure. Although the future queen didn’t realize it, she had learned over the years how to pull off the simplest look with an amazing amount of style and natural beauty and for the first time, it was truly being recognized as the nobles stared in awe at the sight of the gorgeous figure that stood before them.

Elsa tried to smile and remain calm as people entered and hundreds of eyes fell on her. Clearly, she was not what they had been expecting and she saw several people whisper to each other with not-so-subtle surprise, surely commenting on just how _normal_ the princess looked.

The twins shuffled in and took a look around. Sophie’s eyes immediately fell on the food and wine while Aaron’s became glued to Elsa. She was certainly much more beautiful than what he had in mind and he couldn’t stop himself from staring at her enormous blue eyes as they surveyed the crowd.

Eventually it came time for the hosts to address the crowd and Abram cleared his throat. “Welcome to the castle of Arendelle! We are pleased to have you here tonight to show our support for the nobles of the city as well as to rekindle our friendship with the kingdoms that have graced our presence with their royalty. Make yourselves at home and enjoy the food, drink, music, and festivities of the evening. Without further ado, I am pleased to introduce her Majesty, the future queen, Princess Elsa of Arendelle.”

There was a smatter of applause as Elsa stepped forward. “I am so pleased to see you all here this evening. There are many new faces here and I look forward to meeting most of you tonight. I am sorry to announce that my sister, Princess Anna, has fallen ill and will not be joining us.” There was a surge of disappointed sounds and sympathetic coos from the audience. “However, she is recovering and will be back on her feet in no time. It is my hope that you will all have a chance to meet her in the future. Now, I would like to officially let the banquet commence! Please, enjoy yourselves.”

With that, the audience dispersed as the orchestra began to play its first song. The banquet was finally underway.

Elsa took a deep breath. _That wasn’t so bad. Now I just need to smile and nod for the rest of the night._

The blonde half-expected to be swarmed with people immediately after finishing her comments, but she was pleased to see that the banquet attendees had more tact than that. They started to socialize amongst themselves, waiting for a proper moment to approach the future queen.

It wasn’t long, however, before Abram was introducing Elsa to all kinds of royalty and nobles. The blonde had a hard time keeping track of who was from what kingdom and belonged to which house and she found herself zoning out after the first few introductions, deciding the most important thing was to be cordial and polite with the guests to convince them that she wasn’t some kind of witch or leper plotting her subject’s doom. She seemed to be doing a pretty good job, too, as most of the people she met left her presence with an air of contentment at the surprising normalcy of their future monarch.

Everybody in the room seemed to be waiting for their chance to step up and speak with Abram and Elsa; all except Sophie and Aaron. The twins were in their own little world standing awkwardly next to the steaming pot of mashed potatoes, speaking only to one another. Sophie took a gulp from her wineglass and pushed her spectacles towards her face. “Well, well, this Elsa girl is definitely not what I expected. Seems like a real goody two-shoes. She and you might get along after all, Aaron.”

Aaron frowned and took another bite from his plate. “She is quite beautiful.” Sophie raised an eyebrow, causing him to backtrack. “B-but so what? My stance on tonight remains the same. I might introduce myself, but not much more. With all the men in here groveling at her feet I don’t see why she’d be interested in me anyway.”

Sophie shrugged and raised her glass to her lips, surveying the crowd. She noticed some noblemen taking notice of her, casting her suggestive glances from across the room and attempting to move closer subtly in hopes of striking up a conversation. She wasn’t surprised. Sophie was a woman with a natural beauty and confidence about her, the type of woman that _could_ turn every head in the room if she chose to put the time into her appearance that warranted it. Instead, she always opted for a more simple and classy style that didn’t flaunt her beauty. Of course, it certainly didn’t mask it, either. Her long black hair was done up fashionably and she was wearing a white backless dress with a slit up the leg, just revealing enough to garner looks but not appearing overly provocative.

A short man with an ascot and an impressive set of mutton chops approached the twins from the depths of the crowd. “Don’t believe I’ve met you yet. I’m  Sir Oswin of the House Locke," he said with a bow.

Although it was clearly Sophie he was addressing, it was Aaron who responded, “Prince Aaron and Princess Sophie of the Kingdom of Astor. Pleasure.”

Oswin looked slightly annoyed at the Prince and turned towards Sophie’s direction. “I see! Royalty, then! Well, if I may, your highness…” he leaned forward to kiss Sophie’s hand. She hesitantly allowed it, giving the short man a look that bordered between pity and disgust.

“If the Princess would be so kind as to join me for this next dance,” Oswin said and leaned forward abruptly to whisper something in Sophie’s ear.

Aaron couldn’t hear what he said, but he assumed it was something suggestive. He tried not to chuckle as he thought of what would inevitably come next. Sure enough, when he was finished, Sophie ripped her hand out of his. “Beat it, pervert, before the knife I have hidden under my dress finds its way into your wind pipe.”

Oswin’s expression went from playful to terrified in an instant. He looked between Sophie and Aaron for a moment before walking off with a scoff, clearly unconcerned if the princess was bluffing or not.

Aaron looked at his sister incredulously. “Please tell me you were joking. You did _not_ sneak a _weapon_ into the queen’s banquet.”

“You know I don’t go anywhere without it. You used to be the same way. Don’t tell me you’re getting soft on me, hm?”

Aaron sighed. “I don’t think we’re in any danger, Fi. Can’t you just play nice for one night?”

“I am playing nice. I just don’t like being hit on by creepy guys with… _weird_ facial hair."

Aaron rolled his eyes and looked back towards the front of the great hall where Elsa and Abram were speaking with some king and queen that he didn’t recognize. He couldn’t help watch as the blonde smiled and giggled politely, bringing a gloved hand to her lips. Her blue eyes wandered for a split second and met Aaron’s. The prince flushed and reverted his eyes back to the plate of food in front of him.

“I’m going to get some fresh air,” he told Sophie. She merely grunted in response.

Aaron fought his way through the crowd and exited the great hall, finding himself in the inner part of the castle by mistake. He had intended to go outside, but realized that he might not be able to get back inside if he went through the main entrance, so he went off in search of a balcony instead.

He quickly found that he was in forbidden territory when he stumbled upon a large staircase that lead to the residential section of the castle.  Feeling curious and seeing nobody around to get him in trouble, the prince took the liberty of climbing the staircase and wandering the hallways. He ventured in and out of several rooms, inspecting the portraits and books, being mindful not to touch anything or go anywhere that would get him thrown out of the kingdom for trespassing. He simply needed some kind of distraction from the frustrating and dull event that was going on beneath him - and he definitely needed a break from his sister.

Eventually, Aaron found a room that had two glass doors leading outside to a large balcony and he stepped into the brisk nighttime air, sighing with relief as he felt the wind on his face.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Elsa was still braving the banquet, pretending to listen to Abram’s story about the time he caught a five-foot bass (a story that Elsa had heard so many times over the years she could practically recite it herself).

_Strange. I could’ve sworn I saw the twins from Astor..._ Elsa thought. She had never seen them before, but Abram had filled her in on what royalty would be in attendance tonight and their description was unmistakable. _They are the only royalty here that hasn’t introduced themselves yet. Oh well - the less people I have to talk to, the better, I suppose._

“-and that’s the last time I use baby food as bait!” Abram roared. Elsa faked a giggle as the group around them erupted in laughter.

“That one never fails to make me laugh, Uncle Abram. Now, if you all will excuse me, I’m going to step out for a moment,” Elsa stated to the group, trying not to draw much attention to her departure.

“Of course, of course,” Abram said and stepped aside with the blonde as the others excused her.

“Are you feeling alright?” 

“Yes, I’m fine, I-I just need a moment of fresh air. I’ll be back,” said Elsa. Abram nodded and gave the girl a knowing smile before returning to his guests.

Elsa left the Great Hall and climbed the stone steps of the west wing, eager to escape the noise of the banquet. She made her way into her father’s old study, one of her favorite rooms in the entire castle. Not only did it have a spectacular balcony, but it also housed the only portraits of her father in the entire castle. It was also where all of the former king’s old books and writings were kept, his belongings strewn about the room as if he would return at any second. There were remnants of the man’s life in every corner of that room and the memory of him was so thick that Elsa could almost feel his hand on her shoulder and his breath against her skin as soon as she walked through the door.

Elsa gazed up at the portrait of her father with longing eyes before sitting on the luxurious sofa in the center of the room. Her feet were incredibly sore and sitting down felt amazing. Craving more comfort, Elsa stripped her gloves and heels and sat back in relief. Her eyes wandered to the table next to her where she saw a bottle of scotch whiskey that had belonged to her father and gone undrunk for longer than she could remember.

The blonde was never much for alcohol. She had only ever tasted it a few times in her life and never really liked the taste. But tonight, with the banquet going so well, she was feeling a bit adventurous. The bottle seemed to call to her. If there were any night Elsa felt she deserved a drink, it was tonight.

The princess gave in and reached for the bottle. She pulled the cork out and inhaled deeply, smelling the strong, musky scent of the aged beverage, and found a glass on the table, pouring it half full with the golden-brown liquid.

_I think I can actually do this. You’d be proud, Dad._

Just as Elsa was about to take a sip, the door to the balcony swung open, causing a loud bang against the wall. There was a pair of gasps and a flash of light as Aaron stepped through the threshold and locked eyes with Elsa. The liquid in Elsa’s glass froze in an instant, forming a solid block of brown ice, and the now-slippery glass fell from her ungloved hand to the floor, shattering with an ear-splitting crash. As the glass met the floor, magical blue ice formed and spread from the epicenter of the accident, covering the carpeted room and all of its furniture. In just a few seconds, Elsa had turned the entire study into one big ice-box.

The prince and princess stared at one another, their thoughts coinciding. 

_This night just got a whole lot more complicated._

 


	4. Unexpectations

Twelve years.

Twelve years of bitter isolation - of long, lonely nights, locked in a cold, unforgiving room with nothing but desolate thoughts for company. Twelve years of skipped meals, social castration, pain, and unrelenting depression. Twelve years of self-restraint and the mantra "conceal, don't feel" repeated over and over.

All of it was shattered in a careless instant. A single moment of letting her guard down and now all of Elsa's hard work would be for nothing; her secret was revealed and there was no going back.

Her first instinct was to run away and hide like she had done so many times before, retreating into the safety of her room where nobody could see the icy curse that plagued her fingertips - but something stopped her. Instead, she stood her ground, staring down the stranger in the doorway.

Elsa couldn't just leave this man behind in the wake of her mistake, standing bewildered in a room covered in magical ice. She couldn't allow him to run back to the banquet in a panic and alert the whole kingdom to her powers, just when they were finally starting to believe she was normal. She may have slipped up, but there was still hope, still a way to contain the disaster.

Elsa steeled herself and locked eyes with Aaron, dead-set on remedying what she could of the situation before it came crashing down on her life in one fell swoop.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my father's private study?" she demanded.

"My...apologies - I didn't mean to... I was looking for some fresh air and -"

"Listen to me," Elsa interrupted, uninterested in the exact reason for his intrusion. "What just happened, what you just saw... you can never tell anybody, understand?"

She hoped she sounded more intimidating than pleading. To her surprise, the man had already recovered from his bewilderment and was now eyeing the magical ice thoughtfully.

"What I just saw was presumably magic, yes?" he asked.

Elsa was a little startled and didn't respond for a moment, suddenly feeling wary. She didn't want to admit something that could make the situation worse. The man showed no signs of fear or incrdulity.

"Ice magic... of course... a lot makes sense now," he said, running a finger along the ice-coated wall. He seemed to be speaking more to himself than Elsa.

"Princess Elsa...how do I put this... I know you don't know me, and can't trust me. I'm sensing this power of yours is a rather well-kept secret. If I may ask... who else knows of your gift?"

_Gift. Not curse. Just who is this guy?_

Elsa's expression fell and she clutched her arm, remaining silent. Her eyes wandered to the portrait of her father on the wall.

Aaron's gaze followed hers and he had a moment of revelation. He was the only one who knew. Thoughts of blackmail, extortion, even usurping the throne of Arendelle flooded his mind. He could have the kingdom in the palm of his hands with this information. 

He shook his head. "I see. Your Majesty, you have nothing to fear from me. I will not use this to take advantage of you or Arendelle. You have my word." He placed a hand on his heart to accentuate his point, seeing the torrent of panic welling up inside the princess.

Elsa relaxed, but was far from convinced. She couldn't shake the feeling this was a man with more than a few secrets hidden beneath his cool and charming demeanor.

Aaron read the unease in her eyes and noticed the frigidity in the air hold fast. "It appears I've made quite a mess. I always did have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said. He walked over to the balcony door. "Join me outside for a moment?"

Elsa hesitated again. "Humor me. With all due respect, if I were here to make an attempt on your life, I think I've already failed miserably. Besides, an assassin would be out of his mind to try to kill you after seeing what you're capable of," he coaxed. 

Feeling too distraught to return downstairs at this point anyway, Elsa decided the only option was to hear Aaron out and gauge his trustworthiness. With a deep breath, she stepped out onto the balcony into the mild night.

The late king's balcony overlooked the castle gardens and front courtyard. Elsa could see a cluster of banquet guests taking a break from the heat, socializing near the fountain below, some of them swaying from the alcohol, holding enormous glasses of wine and ale. The sight was rather comical.

Aaron kept a comfortable distance between him and Elsa as they looked out into the night. 

"I suppose I should introduce myself. Prince Aaron Sinclair, son of King Harold Sinclair II, first in line for the throne of the Kingdom of Astor." It was a well-rehearsed introduction and Elsa almost gagged thinking about how many others had sounded just like it.

"I know who you are. You and your sister were the only royalty that didn't bother speaking to me tonight. Apparently you were too busy exploring my castle without permission; tell me, is trespassing customary in Astor or is that just a personal interest of yours?"

Aaron couldn't help but blush at her castigation. "It was rude, I know. I overstepped my bounds, and I apologize. But I must say, the last thing I expected was to walk in on the princess creating an ice rink in her father's old study."

"You don't seem all too startled, honestly... I mean, I always expected the first person to see my powers would run away screaming and calling me a witch."

Aaron furrowed his brow. "I suppose most would. But believe it or not, this isn't my first time witnessing magic. Magic like yours, even. You aren't alone, Elsa. I'm no expert on the subject, and I understand little about it, but others out there like you exist."

Elsa stared open-mouthed at the prince, his words hitting her like a tidal wave.

_Others... like me? How could I have gone twenty years without knowing?_

She didn't even know where to begin. "Who? Do you know them? Is their magic exactly like mine or just similar? Where can I find them?" She suddenly sounded like a curious little girl speaking to her father.

Aaron's face grew more serious. "Slow down... I'm afraid I can't answer your questions. These are things that... I simply can't get involved with. I'm sorry."

Elsa was a little taken aback by Aaron's sudden change in tone and she didn't press any further, still reeling from the realization that there were other magic-wielders. That alone was enough to change her outlook on everything she's ever known. 

Elsa had always assumed she was alone, some kind of freak accident of the universe. A mistake that needed to be silenced. Now, she wondered, if there were others, what if she was more than that? What if there was a reason for it all? What if her powers weren't a curse, but in fact, a gift?

"My powers... they're affected by my emotions. My father always taught me to conceal them and eliminate the risk of hurting somebody with my magic. Are the others... the same way? Please, I have to know..." she pleaded. Whatever information Aaron was willing to reveal, she was desperate for it.

Aaron took a moment and looked up at the night's sky. "Agdar was a wise man. I only met him a couple times, some when I was only a child, but I always could tell he had a good head on his shoulders. I remember seeing him as he was leaving a meeting with my father when I was a boy, no older than ten. I was having a rather rough day for one reason or another, I don't remember exactly, but Agdar saw me and knew right away I was upset. He told me that little princes should never look that sad because a prince has the whole world in his hands and the world is too full of beauty to leave room for sadness. A little sappy, yes, but I took those words to heart. Your father was a good man. I don't think he would steer you wrong."

Elsa understood. Although she was a little disappointed with the lack of new advice, she smiled at the story. Aaron added, "I wish I could tell you something more, help you in a more meaningful way, but I can't. The truth is, I don't know any more about how to control your powers than you do."

Elsa sighed deeply. "It's... It's alright. And please, call me Elsa. We're both royalty, regardless of whose kingdom we're in."

Aaron nodded and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Very well, Elsa. Call me Aaron. It should be a bit of a relief to have someone know of your secret, right?"

"I don't think comforting is the right word. I've carried this with me for twelve years, alone since my parent's death... I guess I'm not sure how to feel. Or if I should feel at all..."

"You don't trust me, then," Aaron said, garnering an apologetic look from the blonde. "I don't blame you, don't worry. We did just meet after all. You'd be a fool to trust me with your deepest, darkest secret right away. I do hope that I can gain your trust in time, though."

Elsa studied Aaron's face for a moment, thinking. Then she asked, "When do you set sail for Astor?"

"Well... Sophie, my sister, is kind of eager to get home. We're scheduled to leave tomorrow evening."

Elsa thought again, this time watching a drunk fat man in the crowd below try to lean against the fountain and almost falling over. "What would you think about staying here, just for a few nights? We have plenty of room for you and your sister and we could easily set up your sailing crew in the nicest inn in Arendelle."

Aaron was floored by the offer, but knew there was ulterior motives involved. It was obvious that Elsa didn't want to just let Aaron leave right away with knowledge that could ruin her life. The only thing she could think of was to keep Aaron around until she could judge whether or not he would be a threat. In a way, he'd be a hostage more than a guest.

There was nothing Aaron could do but play along.

"I would have to notify my father, push back my meetings for the week, and make arrangements with my captain, but yes, I believe that could work. My sister may be the biggest obstacle though. I will need a damn good reason to get her to agree."

"Just tell her that we became fast friends and wouldn't take no for an answer! Surely she can believe that?" Elsa said with a smile. Under any other circumstance, it would seem like she was flirting.

Aaron blushed. "I guess that's as good a reason as any. But you haven't met Sophie. She's... difficult."

"Surely you can think of something. If you need to, have her speak with me."

Aaron got the impression that he didn't really have a choice. "I will do my best."

"Okay then. I'll notify Gerda and Kai and have two rooms prepared by the end of the night. As for right now, there's still a banquet going on and I'm sure people are wondering where I've been. Will you be joining me or are you going to wander the hallways again like a lost child?" she quipped with a smile, turning to go back inside.

Aaron was impressed. Somewhere behind that veil of properness and stoicism was a fiery personality. He smirked and followed her.

Elsa was relieve to find that the study had completely thawed by the time they went back inside. She could've sworn she sensed a look of approval from the portrait of Agdar hanging on the wall.

* * *

 

 “So let me get this straight. Neither of us wanted to come here in the first place, you practically laughed in father’s face when he asked you to make an impression on this Elsa woman, and then you have one conversation with her and now you want to stay an extra few nights?” Sophie asked before taking a sip of what must have been her fifth glass of wine.

“She and I really hit it off. You’ll understand when you meet her, Fi, she just wants to show her hospitality and I can’t decline without looking rude. C’mon, you may even find it enjoyable, it’ll be like a vacation,” Aaron said, fully aware that he was not being as convincing as he needed to be.

Sophie narrowed her eyes. “There has to be some kind of catch, Aaron. We’ve never had the closest relationship with Arendelle and for her to invite us to stay with her… it just seems suspicious. And besides, can we really afford to stay across the ocean for that long?”

Aaron felt defeated. He never had been able to pull one over on his sister. Sophie had always been the more clever and observant of the two, the one that pulled the strings in their relationship, and Aaron felt both hopeless and guilty about lying to her.

He sighed. “Okay, okay, you’re right, there’s more to it.” He leaned a little closer. “You see, Elsa is desperately trying to marry off her younger sister and was hoping she would find a prince for her at the banquet tonight. Unfortunately, Princess Anna fell ill, but Elsa isn’t giving up. She says that I would be perfect for her and wants me to meet her when she feels better. She practically begged me, I couldn’t say no. Besides, father would want me to do it anyway.”

Sophie scoffed. “I knew it. Always political motives behind everything. Fine then, we’ll stay and you can have your little love-party with the princesses, but you’d better get somewhere with her. There has to be some sort of greater good for me to put up with this snobby kingdom for more than one night. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drink until I forget this one.”

She downed her half-full glass and walked off in search of more. Aaron had always been amazed at the amount of alcohol that his sister was able to put away without winding up on the floor; as he watched her walk away, somehow he knew that she would be alright.

* * *

 

The banquet dragged on well into the night and Elsa was already exhausted by ten o’clock. Fortunately, everything went smoothly for the rest of the event and Elsa actually thought she had made a fairly good impression on the guests. She wasn’t sure if they were just relieved that she wasn’t the circus-freak they had expected or if they were genuinely fond of her - but she didn’t care either way. She had succeeded and was now one step closer to being a true Queen, a respectable ruler, just as her father had been.

As the guests finally began to thin out and the crowd was reduced to only a drunk few being herded out by the castle servants, Elsa decided it was time to fill Abram in on the situation with the twins. She didn’t feel the need to fully explain her actions even if she could – Abram had made it clear that he was slowly relinquishing royal control to Elsa as her coronation day seemed to grow exponentially closer with each passing day. He was beginning to treat her like the acting ruler she would soon be.

Abram seemed to just be thrilled that Elsa was making friends.

In fact, he was so excited by the news that he rushed off to prepare their rooms himself and notify the castle staff – before Elsa had even said goodbye to everyone for the night, the twins’ stay had been finalized, approved, and prepared for accordingly. This was one of the few times that Elsa had to admire and appreciate the efficiency of the Arendelle aristocracy.

_Maybe this whole queen thing won’t be as hard as I thought…_

By one o’clock in the morning, the future queen was more than ready to pass out in her own room. Unfortunately, a queen's work is never done.

She made her way to the west wing of the castle where the twins were staying, their separate guest rooms in the same hallway only separated by several feet. She first knocked on Aaron’s door and felt a mixture of relief and disappointment when she heard nothing but snoring coming from the other side. The prince must have been exhausted from his long and... unorthodox day.

Elsa walked down the hallway to check if his twin was still awake. She had to stifle a gasp when she saw that Sophie was indeed still awake and seemed to be waiting for Elsa by her door, visibly drunk and leaning on the doorframe either for support or dramatic effect - Elsa wasn’t sure which.

“Ah, Princess Elsa, at last we meet. What a pleasure. I am Princess-Sophie-of-Astor,” the drunk woman slurred the last four words into one long title and hiccupped as she adjusted her glasses.

Elsa gave a polite small bow of her head. “Princess Sophie, I’ve heard many good things. I hope that you are comfortable and please, let me know if there is anything you need while you and your brother stay in my castle.”

Sophie eyed her up and down but her expression remained stoic. “Of course, of course. Speaking of which, my brother may be a half-wit, but I feel I should tell you that I am not like him. Whatever game is happening here, I’m on to it.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean…” Elsa said, folding her hands in front of her and feeling a slight chill on the inside of her gloves.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Elsa. I have nothing against you. I merely feel the need to tell you that I know there is _something_ going on here and it’s more than just my dear brother’s little crush on you." She wagged a finger and giggled loudly. "I _will_ figure out what it is, one way or another. I aaaaalways do,” she finished with a yawn, succumbing to her drunken drowsiness.

Elsa  wasn’t exactly sure how to respond and her thoughts seemed to be stuck on the comment about Aaron’s crush on her, so she opted to merely nod and exchange a “goodnight” with the other princess before retreating to her room, her mind reeling from the events of the day.

She sighed heavily as she flopped onto her mattress. The banquet had gone better than expected, but now she was faced with her worst fear all over again. Somehow she had managed to become stuck as hostess to two strangers, one of which knew the secret that could ruin her life and the other who was dead-set on figuring it out.

_What have I gotten myself into…_

 


	5. Icebloom

Aaron awoke to a rhythmic grunt coming through the thin wall separating his guest room from his sister’s. He sat up and surveyed his unfamiliar surroundings, taking a moment to come to terms with the fact that last night had not been a dream and he was in fact still in the castle of Arendelle under the strangest circumstances imaginable.

The grunts continued, each one followed by a soft _thump_. He checked the clock to see that it was only 8 AM. Groaning in protest, he rolled out of the comfortable queen-sized bed to get prepared for what would surely be a strange and uncomfortable day. After stretching his sore legs, he dressed in the outfit that Kai had provided him the night before – Aaron’s full luggage hadn’t been brought to the castle yet. Kai had insisted that anything that the prince needed could be found in the castle and so far that seemed to be the case – each guest room was extravagantly furnished and was complete with its own fully stocked bathroom. It was more than enough.

He yawned as he walked the few feet down the hall to Sophie’s where he decided to try the door without knocking, knowing that his sister had surely passed out without locking it.

The door swung open and Sophie let out a startled gasp as Aaron entered. She was lying on the ground, her hands positioned behind her head and her feet tucked under the bed, holding her in place. She was in only her undergarments and was looking at Aaron upside down, apparently interrupted mid sit-up, and a bead of sweat rolled across her forehead. Aaron couldn’t help but grin at the ridiculous position he had caught her in.

“Jesus, Aaron, you scared the shit out of me! Close the door, I don’t need the servants seeing me without pants on. How very unprincess-like,” she said before resuming her exercise, panting and pulling herself up into a sitting position and counting under her breath. The bed shook slightly with each repetition, bumping into the wall and causing the soft thumping noise Aaron had woken up to.

“You know what’s unprincess-like? Doing sit-ups first thing in the morning, but that doesn’t seem to bother you,” Aaron replied with a half-grin. “You know, I think you’re the only person in the world that could drink twice as much as me and still wake me up the next morning with your exercise routine. I don’t know how you do it. I’m your _twin_ for Godssake and I still don’t understand it.”

“It’s called discipline…. Something you lost… a long time ago."

She finished and stood up, catching her breath as she snatched up her glasses from the nightstand. “Now if you'll excuse me, I’m going to get ready for this dreadful day and I suggest you do the same. I’m sure this younger princess is eager to meet you and scope you out. Do be sure to shave, you look like a barbarian.”

Aaron brought a hand to his face and felt the rough stubble that lined his chin before waving his sister off and returning to his own room, thinking about what he should expect from the coming day. There was a lot at stake for both Elsa and Aaron here - unfortunately, Elsa was the one with the power (both literally and figuratively). He reminded himself that as long as Sophie remained blissfully ignorant, everything would be okay.

The Astorian prince glanced at himself in the mirror before leaving the room, smoothing back his hair and staring at his bright green eyes.  He looked presentable, but not particularly princely in the rather plain vest, shirt and trousers that were provided to him. He had taken his sister’s advice and shaved his face clean, showing off his chiseled jawline and olive complexion.

Sophie was still locked up in her room when Aaron came out. Instead of bothering her more, he explored the hallways of the castle, admiring the foreign architecture. He rounded a corner just in time to see who he recognized as the head-maid exiting a room with a tray of tea and half-eaten biscuits. He heard a resounding fit of coughing coming from through the door and assumed that he must have stumbled upon Princess Anna’s room.

The maid noticed Aaron approaching and bowed her head. “Greetings, your majesty. I hope you slept well."

“Yes, of course, everything has been quite accommodating, thank you…” he trailed off.

“Gerda, your highness, at your service,” she reminded him, unoffended.

 “Ah, yes, Gerda. If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly ails the younger Princess? I hear she is quite ill.”

“Oh, Princess Anna merely has a common cold. She has been quite prone to them ever since she was a young girl but she always bounces back very quickly. The poor girl has quite a vicious fever right now, though. I'm afraid I've tried everything, but it isn't going away,” she explained.

“I see.” Aaron rubbed his chin and thought for a moment. “If you wouldn’t mind, and if it wouldn’t be too much of an intrusion, could you show me to the kitchen? I may be able to offer something to help.”

The two made their way across the west wing and through a pair of double doors to the residential kitchen. The castle was home to a couple different kitchens - one near the barracks where chefs hustled to and fro almost constantly to feed the guards and servants - and another that was meant solely for the private use of the royal family. Elsa and Anna rarely cooked for themselves but they did enjoy fully stocked cabinets of ther own that only Kai, Gerda, and themselves had permission to use. Its purpose was to fulfill their small needs - mostly midnight snacks and morning cups of tea or coffee.

Aaron inspected the ware of the room and said, “It might seem like a strange question, but I don’t suppose you have any icebloom lying around, do you, Gerda?”

The maid thought for a moment. “Icebloom… oh, yes, that flower with the blue stem? I do believe we have quite a large quantity growing in the castle gardens, why do you ask, your highness?”

“If you don’t mind fetching one of them for me, I would be grateful. Just one flower will do. And before you go, could you show me where you keep your tea and kettle?”

Gerda did as the prince asked, eager to please her guest; the maid rarely got to attend to anyone except Elsa and Anna and she was thrilled to have change in routine for once.

Aaron began to heat water in the teakettle and searched the cupboard while he waited, retrieving a jar of honey and the strongest tea leaves he could find.

It wasn’t long before the maid returned with the icebloom flower in hand. She appeared slightly out of breathe and Aaron smiled at her dedication to his request.

“Didn’t take long to find one, these flowers are quite common in Arendelle. Whatever do you need it for?”

The kettle started to whistle and Aaron removed it from the heat before answering, placing the tea leaves into the pot and allowing it to brew. “Not many people know this, but the petals of the icebloom flower actually have unique healing properties if prepared in the right way.” As he spoke, he picked up the delicate flower, carefully stripped each petal, and inserted exactly three into the teapot, using a wooden spoon to stir the mixture. He then took the blue stem of the plant and broke it into four separate pieces. He carefully inspected each fragment of the stem and after a moment, chose two that he placed into the concoction and discarded the rest. 

“The petals help with the symptoms of a cold – stuffy nose and sore throat and all that – while the stem actually soothes the stomach and provides relief for the more… vulgar side of the illness,” he explained as Gerda watched with intrigue. “Unfortunately, icebloom tastes just awful – that’s why you mask it with sugar or honey, or else it’ll make you feel even worse than you already did.” He took a hefty spoonful of honey from the pot he had found and mixed it with the hot water, placing the lid of the pot over it to allow it time to properly brew. 

"The honey is actually essential. Without it, the tea won't work properly."

“I had no idea!" Gerda exclaimd. "What a fascinating discovery. Where did you learn about it? Surely there is no icebloom all the way in Astor, is there?”

“It was my mother, actually. She used to prepare this exact tea when I was a young boy whenever I was feeling under the weather. She went to the trouble of importing icebloom all the way from Arendelle. Where she learned about its healing properties, I can only guess. I suppose I’ll never get the chance to ask her now...” Aaron’s expression fell.

Gerda frowned and placed a hand to her chest. “Oh yes, I remember hearing years ago about the Queen of Astor’s passing. I am so sorry for your loss, your highness,” she said gently.

“It’s quite alright, Gerda. I miss her dearly, but my time to grieve has passed. She was a wonderful woman.” A pause. “Now…”

He took the lid of the teapot off and inhaled sharply. “I think it is about ready.” He poured the completed beverage into a tea cup and sipped the hot liquid, testing his creation and smacking his lips.

“It’s not quite as good as mother used to make, but I expect it will do. Take this to the princess and tell her to drink at least two cups over the next few hours. She should feel much better by this evening.”

Gerda gathered the teapot and cups onto a tray as he spoke. “Of course, Prince Aaron. Anna will be quite grateful. Thank you.”She bowed politely before rushing off to deliver the remedy to her princess.

Aaron sighed deeply and stared at one of the leftover petals of the icebloom flower with distant eyes, the memory of his mother flooding over him like a cool breeze.

* * *

 

“Thank you Captain, I believe that will be all for today,” Elsa stated, closing out the meeting with the gruff man across from her.

Elsa had been swamped with meetings all morning, a fact that seemed to have completely slipped her mind the night before. She was more than anxious to get through them all so she could turn her attention to her guests and keep them... entertained? Busy?

_Somehow it feels more like I need to keep an eye on them…_

Fortunately, this meeting with Desmond Holdt, the Royal Guard Captain, was Elsa’s last of the day and when it was through she would be free to check up on the twins. The captain bowed his head as he stood to leave. “Thank you, Majesty. Until next time.”

He started to turn towards the door but stopped before he reached it. “Oh yeah, one more thing. About these two guests of yours. Where did you say they were from?”

“I never mentioned it. They are from far to the west, a place called Astor,” Elsa replied.

“Astor? You don’t say. Huh, somehow I never would’ve guessed,” said Desmond, raising his eyebrows.

 “Are you familiar with it?”

“I wouldn’t say I am, but one of my guards says he's from there. I believe his name’s Liam. Real quiet guy, joined about a year ago. He doesn’t like to talk about his old life in Astor, he always clams up whenever anyone asks. Mysterious place. It seems like barely anybody knows anyone from there. Hell, nobody seems to know anyone that’s even visited it.”

"That's strange. Come to think of it, I didn’t know much about Astor myself before meeting the Prince and Princess and it seems Abram doesn’t know much more than me. I think the royal family is just very private and don’t get involved in many foreign affairs.”

Desmond shrugged. “You’re probably right. I guess it might be good for those twins to be out here anyway. Maybe they’ll come out of their shell a little.”

With that, he bowed again and excused himself from the room. Elsa stared off into space, thinking about how bizarre it was that she knew so little about Aaron and Sophie's home kingdom. She thought back to the conversation she had with Aaron on the balcony.  _You are not alone._

_Astor…_  she pondered, rubbing her temples. I _definitely need to know more about it. Hopefully I can ask the twins some questions tonight. But for some reason, I'm not sure if I even want to know the answers._

 


	6. Achilles' Heel

By the time Elsa had finished her paperwork and listened to Abram ramble on about the importance of proper quill management, it was already well into the afternoon. At four o’clock, she finally escaped her study and walked as quickly as she could to the residential wing in search of the twins.

She rounded a corner rather quickly and slammed into someone, her head colliding with his chest. She stumbled back and looked up to see Aaron smiling sheepishly down at her.

“My apologies, Elsa. I was just on my way to ask Gerda if you were finally available,” he said.

“No, no, that was my fault…I really should look where I’m going,” she found her composure and rubbed her arm. “I’m sorry I haven’t spoken to you or Sophie all day. Getting prepared for my coronation has made my schedule rather busy…”

“Say no more. I know what it’s like. Anyway, I’ve been enjoying myself in your library. It is quite impressive, I must say. And Sophie has… well, I’m not actually sure where she’s been. Staying out of trouble, I hope…” Aaron rubbed the back of his neck and looked off down the hallway, hoping she would suddenly appear there.

“Well, I did tell her to make herself at home,” Elsa shrugged and gave the man a small smile. “I would like to invite the two of you to join me for dinner, if you would like. I’ll have the chefs prepare us something special.”

“It would be my pleasure. I’ll find my sister and pass the word along.”

“Okay then. Kai should come find you in a few hours when dinner is almost ready. See you then," she finished and turned to inform the chefs.

Aaron waited a moment to make sure Elsa was out of sight and then broke into a jog in the opposite direction, hoping to find Sophie before she inevitably did something inappropriate.

* * *

 

“Sophie… Where are you…?” Aaron muttered under his breath as he scoured the west wing, starting from her guest room and fanning out from there. When he couldn’t find her anywhere in the residential section of the castle, he branched out to the front courtyard and eventually found himself on the north side where the guard barracks extended from the castle. He searched for over an hour before finally finding Sophie in the guard armory, inspecting the racks of weapons and armor with a look of pure disgust.

She didn't even look up when she noticed her brother coming. “Look at the quality of this steel… it looks like the smiths here in Arendelle were trained by Trolls or something.”

Aaron ignored her. “Have you been just wandering around the castle all day critiquing whatever you find?” he asked.

“I have nothing else to do. I don’t have a prince to impress, remember?” 

“Point taken. Just, please, at least pretend to be a normal princess for once. Elsa has invited us for dinner in a couple hours, she wants me to tell you.”

Sophie laughed, finally making eye contact. "Is that what this is all about? Pretending to be normal for a few days? We can't get too comfortable, Aaron. No matter how much you try, we will never be normal. We will have to go home soon and face reality. And in reality, you're nothing but a Panther and I'm nothing but a Swan."

Aaron didn't know how to respond. He clenched his jaw. Despite her harshness, Sophie placed a comforting hand on her brother's shoulder as she strolled past, surely off to explore some other far and probably forbidden corner of the castle. 

* * *

 

 Aaron was pleased if not a bit surprised to see that Sophie had listened to his request and showed up to the extravagantly designed, almost gaudy dining hall precisely on time. Elsa had met them there and the three young royals gathered around the massive table. Elsa took her place at the head and the twins sat on either side of her, facing each other.

Just as the servants began to bring out the first course of the meal, Elsa spotted a redheaded figure appear in the doorway.

“Anna? What are you doing out of bed?”

Anna stepped into the dining room shyly and put her hand up in a small wave. “Hi everyone! I’m actually feeling much better and I thought I’d join you, i-if that’s alright…” she said. The younger princess was looking far healthier than she had last night and Elsa was quite impressed with her speedy recovery.

Aaron stood at the presence of the princess and faced Anna, bowing. “I see that the icebloom worked, then. I'm glad. I’m Prince Aaron Sinclair of Astor, your highness. And this is my sister, Princess Sophie Sinclair,” he gestured to the woman across the table who stood and nodded a greeting, looking utterly unamused.

“You sure you’re feeling better already?” Elsa asked as Anna approached the table and took her place next to Aaron.

“Yeah, I actually feel great!” she said, sounding astounded herself. “It’s nice to meet you Aaron. A-and thank you so much for that tea, it was… wow. I’ve never felt so refreshed in my entire life, it was like magic!”

“The secret is right outside in your gardens, actually. Icebloom is quite a marvelous little plant."

“You gave her icebloom tea?” Sophie asked, giving Aaron an indiscernible look. "I'm surprised even the royalty of the icebloom's native kingdom doesn't know about its healing powers.”

“Yes, well, it’s only fitting that they know, isn’t it?” Aaron said, shooting Sophie a look.

“I’ve certainly never heard of it before but if it can make Anna go from how she was last night to this, it must be quite a useful secret to know,” Elsa interjected, sensing something happening between the twins that she couldn't understand.

The servants brought out the main course as they spoke, an artfully prepared fish that Elsa didn’t recognize with garlic potatoes and asparagus on the side. It smelled wonderful and both pairs of royal siblings were practically drooling in anticipation as the food was placed in front of them.

Anna was the first to dig in, devouring potatoes like it was her last meal on earth, clearly making a recovery from her lack of appetite while she was sick. Aaron politely cut into his fish and brought the fork to his mouth, but before he could take a bite he was interrupted by Sophie standing and shouting so loudly that the entire table rattled.

“WAIT!!”

Elsa, Aaron, and Anna all froze and stared at the princess’ outburst, mouths agape and speechless. A glob of potatoes fell from Anna’s fork to her plate with a plop.

Sophie walked around the table and hovered over her confused brother’s shoulder. She leaned close to his plate and inspected the fish, then pushed her glasses towards her face.

“I had a feeling. Paprika. You need to be more careful Aaron, if I hadn’t noticed you would be halfway to the infirmary by now,” she finally said.

Aaron lowered his fork and his expression changed from a look of confusion to embarrassment as he understood what had just happened. “T-thanks, Fi. That was…close.”

When he noticed that Anna and Elsa were staring at the siblings in confusion, he explained, “I have a rather severe allergy to paprika. If I had eaten this, I’m afraid that would have put a rather abrupt end to the evening.”

“The last time he accidentally ate paprika he nearly suffocated,” Sophie said, her voice humorless.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!” Elsa apologized and called Kai back to take the food away and prepare something else for their guest.

“It’s quite alright, you didn’t know. I’m just glad Fi was looking out for me,” Aaron said looking genuinely grateful. Sophie smiled ever so slightly and patted Aaron on the back before circling around the table to take her seat once more.

Elsa took notice of the small gesture; somewhere beneath Sophie’s rather abrasive and blasé exterior, she truly did care about her twin brother, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Elsa got the sense that the two of them had a bond that could only come from experiencing a lifetime of hardship together. She would expect that from a pair of twins, especially two royal children, but there was something more to it. The two relied on each other heavily.

She looked at Anna who had awkwardly started to eat again, hardly concealing her ravenous appetite. A pang of sadness washed over Elsa as she realized that she would never have that close of a relationship with her own sister; that was something that she had given up long ago. Her thoughts went to her nineteenth birthday, the night on the rooftop that she remembered so well, and she smiled fondly at the memory.

As the four began to eat and a new, paprika-free entrée was brought out for Aaron, an awkward silence fell over the table. Anna and Sophie were still in the dark about the exact nature of the twin’s stay in the castle and neither of them exactly knew what to say to the other. Anna had practically no experience with royals around her own age and Sophie wasn't exactly the most sociable person to begin with. It all added up to a peculiar dinner situation and none of them felt entirely at ease.

In fact, Anna was not even used to having dinner with her own sister, let alone these two strangers. While she welcomed some fresh new faces around, she couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable with the sudden change.

Elsa was the one to break the silence, taking the opportunity to ask about Astor.

“So, Aaron, Sophie, tell us about your kingdom. What is Astor like? Obviously neither Anna or  myself have ever had the pleasure of visiting it."

Sophie and Aaron exchanged glances and hesitated for just a small moment. “Well -” Aaron began, but his sister cut him off.

“It’s quite boring, really. The weather is hot and dry, no snow, very few flowers, definitely no royal banquets… Our father is a fairly private man and prefers a… quieter lifestyle,” she explained.

Aaron seemed to have nothing to add, and Elsa conceded, figuring that her conversation with Captain Holdt had been spot-on about the royal family enjoying their privacy.

_Still, something feels off…_

The two quickly changed the subject and the conversation shifted towards more mundane things, leaving Elsa feeling even more curious. She couldn’t think of a way to bring it back up without seeming like she was prying.

“So what kind of things do you do for fun in Astor?” Anna asked.

“Sophie and I are actually both quite adequate... fencers,” Aaron replied, causing Sophie to scoff. Elsa noticed that he had hesitated a bit until he landed on the word 'fencers.'

“Adequate? You and I can beat every single one of the knights in the capitol,” she proclaimed without a hint of modesty. Aaron shrugged, but Anna looked impressed already.

“Ohhh, fencing! That’s so cool! I’d love to see you in action! Wasn’t Abram a fencer, Elsa?” she asked.

“Yes, I believe so, but he’s much too old for it now. If you mention it he might just talk your ear off about it. But Desmond, our captain of the guard, is apparently quite the accomplished swordsman. Perhaps tomorrow you could set up a bout,” Elsa suggested.

Sophie had a wicked grin on her face and Aaron gave her another look. He simply said, “We’ll see.”

The rest of dinner went by at a comfortable pace. By the time the food was all gone, the four royals were so full that the walk back to their rooms suddenly felt like it would be a massive chore. Anna, in particular, looked like she had gained about ten pounds just from the meal, sitting back in her chair and smiling contentedly, a spot of mashed potatoes resting on the front of her blouse.

“Anna, I know that you are feeling better, but I still think you need rest. Perhaps we should all retire for the evening, yes?” Elsa suggested, feeling eager to get some sleep herself.

Aaron and Sophie thanked Elsa and the servants for the meal and the four of them dispersed. It was past dark by now and the front hall was lit only by the bright light from the moon as it cascaded through the massive windows that lined the purple hallways. Elsa stopped Aaron before heading up the stairs to the residential wing and asked to speak with him privately. Anna noticed her comment as she climbed the stairs herself and shot Elsa a playful smile as she reached the top step, stifling a giggle. Elsa ignored her.

“Listen, Aaron. I’m sorry, for all of this…” she told him, her gaze falling to the floor.

Aaron brought a hand up to stop her. “Don’t apologize. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense and I don’t blame you for not trusting me just yet.”

“The thing is, I think you’re a good person. I _want_ to trust you, truly.” She paused. “You and your sister… you seem very close, yes?”

“Ah, I see. You're worried that I won’t keep your secret from her. You are quite the observant one, aren’t you?” he said and Elsa nodded.

“Yes, Fi and I are indeed quite close, but please don’t worry. You’ll have to trust me when I say that it is better for everyone if she doesn’t know, and even I don’t want her to find out. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: your secret is safe with me.”

Elsa visibly relaxed a little, sensing truth in the man’s words and there was a comfortable silence for a moment.

"Icebloom, huh? And fencing, of all things. You really are full of surprises."

Aaron let out a modest chuckle. "Don't forget I can be killed by a relatively common spice, too. I suppose everyone has their achilles' heel."

"Indeed. Yours is a spice and mine is a magical curse. Nobody's perfect, right?"

"I don't think you're cursed Elsa. I think you just have a touch of magic in you. That's something you should be proud of. You're going to make a fantastic, beautiful queen."

He inwardly winced for including the word 'beautiful' in that sentence, but she didn't seem to mind. She didn't say anything at all, merely giving the man a shy smile full of genuine gratitude. For a moment, she studied Aaron's green eyes and sharp features, and not for the first time, noticing how handsome he was in the dim light of the moon. 

Catching herself staring, she broke eye contact and fiddled with her gloves. “Well… I suppose I’m off to bed then…” 

“Yes, me too. I will…see you tomorrow then?” Aaron asked and cleared his throat nervously.

“Of course.”

The two climbed the stairs together and when they reached the point where they had to part ways, Aaron kissed the back of Elsa's hand and the two whispered “goodnights” to each other. Both had to stop themselves from looking back as they went off to their rooms where they would stay up all night thinking of infinite "what-ifs."

* * *

 

Aaron sighed as he entered his guest room and began to undress, pulling off his vest. He walked over to the dresser and stared at himself in the mirror before unlatching the leather apparatus strapped to his body underneath his undershirt and pulling out the dagger concealed in the holster hidden beneath his clothes. He held the blade up and studied the beautiful design, the black handle of the weapon encrusted with a large red ruby right at the center. The blade itself was engraved with a small flame design just above the hilt; the crest of the Kingdom of Astor.

He placed the dagger on top of the dresser and spun it skillfully in place. It whirled around several times on top of the wooden surface before slowing to a stop, the sharp end of the blade pointed directly towards Aaron’s heart.

              

              

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Getting somewhere. Thanks for sticking with me. If you have any comments or questions, good or bad, please please type them in the box below! I'd love to chat with you!


	7. 28-29

While Mondays were almost universally hated throughout the castle of Arendelle, they were actually the one day of the week that Anna looked forward to the most. Monday mornings were when the guards had their weekly combat training and Anna always made a point to wake up early every week to watch them. There was something about combat that intrigued the young princess and she had always enjoyed watching the guards train in the barracks courtyard ever since she was a girl.

When Anna was in her early teenage years, she had even insisted on learning to fight herself, much to the dismay of Captain Holdt, who would always have to kindly tell the princess that she had no need to learn to fight; that was the whole point of the Royal Guard, after all.

Eventually the spunky redhead gave up on learning herself, but she remained adamant about watching every training session promptly at 9 AM. This week was no exception; she awoke early and quickly braided her hair in order to make it to her usual spot on top of the stone wall that lined the barracks courtyard. She arrived and hoisted herself onto the ledge just as Captain Holdt began to address his men.

"Alright lads – You know the drill. Today we're going to cover basic sword techniques and –"

"Woo! Let's go Desi! Show us what you got!" Anna shouted from up above, raising her fists in the air as if she were at a sporting event.

The captain visibly cringed at the use of the princess' cutesy nickname for him and some of the guards had to stop themselves from snickering. The captain and guards were used to Anna's attendance at their combat sessions but Captain Holdt was always slightly irked by her enthusiastic cheers and comments while he was trying to teach his men important skills – some that might even be necessary for her own protection. If Anna wasn't the princess and daughter of a man he had sworn a life-oath to protect, he would be tempted to tell her to piss off.

He sighed before speaking again. "Right. Like I was saying, we'll start with the disarm. Grab a training weapon and a partner and begin some friendly sparring. And I shouldn't need to remind you that you should be working on the proper technique, not simply trying to overpower your opponent. Get to it!"

The guards barked a 'yessir' before dispersing and beginning their work. As the men started to spar with each other, Captain Holdt wandered around offering tips and critiquing their form. Anna noticed that he didn't look too pleased with their progress.

"No, no, Spaulding, look at your footwork… you need to lead the blow… Benson, we're practicing the disarm not the fall-on-your-ass technique… Jesus, you're all fighting like a bunch of women!" he finally shouted when his frustration got the better of him.

"If they're going to fight like women, perhaps they should learn from one."

The voice cut through the noise of clashing swords and armor like a knife through cheese. Everyone within earshot turned their heads to stare at its source.

Sophie emerged from the barracks wearing a well-tailored white fencing outfit, knee-high black boots, and fine leather gloves. Her hair was tied back into a sporty pony-tail and she was wearing a special pair of sleek glasses with a slender frame. They barely disguised the confidence in her eyes as she walked through the crowd of guards. She was brandishing one of the training swords that she had snatched from inside the barracks and hacked the air a few times with it as she approached the bewildered captain.

"Is this oak or hickory?" she asked, eyeing the practice blade closely.

The Captain looked around at his men who one-by-one stopped their exercise to look curiously at the woman. "Uhh, I believe it's white oak. Forgive me, but you are Princess Sophie, yes?"

"I see my reputation proceeds me. I assume you're the captain? Well, captain, how about I show your men how a real woman fights and then we'll see if it's something they can aspire to," she turned to address the onlookers. "Do I have any takers?"

Several guards exchanged glances with one another, utterly confused.

"Don't be afraid boys, it's only a friendly spar. I didn't think Arendelle's royal guard would be so timid."

Captain Holdt interjected. "It's not that, your highness, it's just… well, you're not only our guest but you're a Princess and – "

"Let her fight, Desi! Just because she's a princess doesn't mean she can't fight!" Anna called down from her perch. Holdt sensed there was a double meaning behind the redhead's words.

Sophie merely gestured to Anna on the wall and raised her eyebrows.

Holdt looked between Anna and Sophie for a moment and sighed. "Alright then… we are practicing disarming your opponent, is that something you're familiar with?" he asked Sophie. She nodded once.

"Revel, get over here and be our guest's partner. And the lot of you better stop gawking and do something useful," he shouted to the men who grunted and turned their attention back to their training. A tall guard with wavy brown hair emerged from the ranks and approached Sophie and the captain.

Holdt walked over and quietly spoke in his ear as Sophie began to do a few quick stretches. "If she gets hurt, Abram and Elsa will have my head, but I can't tell her to leave without looking rude. Just take it easy and keep her entertained, understand?"

Revel nodded and stepped up to the princess, training sword in hand. "Greetings, your highness. I can't say I've ever had the pleasure of sparring with royalty before…" He paused, unsure of how to proceed. "Er, are you prepared?"

Sophie eyed the guard and adjusted her glasses, standing upright with her heels together, turning so her left shoulder faced him. She extended her weapon in a ready position. "After you, my friend."

The guard smiled playfully as he readied his own weapon and approached the woman slowly. As soon as he was within arms-reach of the princess, before he could even go for a proper attack, Sophie made her move - two lightning-fast slashes, the first knocking the tip of Revel's weapon away and the second making contact with the handle in his grip, causing the wood sword to sail through the air and land on the ground several feet away with a harsh clang. The guard barely had time to process before he was disarmed and Sophie's blunt weapon was pointed straight at his throat.

Captain Holdt looked stunned and several of the nearby guards had taken notice of Sophie's impressive move. "Hoho, lads! Looks like you could learn a thing or two from our royal guest here! That was the quickest disarm I've seen in years! Revel, I'd pay attention if I were you," the captain laughed as Revel grudgingly walked over to pick up his blade with a defeated look on his face.

He approached Sophie again, sword raised. "Not bad, but I'll be prepared this time," he said, taking an aggressive step towards the princess. She attempted to disarm him again, but Revel was ready and parried her first blow. Before he could recover, though, Sophie stepped back slightly and batted his hand from the other side. His weapon flew from his grip a second time in the opposite direction. Revel just stared at where it landed, awestruck and embarrassed.

Sophie turned away from Revel and faced the captain. "I told you, I'll give them something to aspire to. Now, enough of the small-fries – Elsa tells me you're quite the fighter, Captain, and I'd just love to see the best Arendelle has to offer." She smiled and pointed her weapon at the man in a rather pompous gesture.

Holdt looked slightly taken aback at the sudden challenge, but by now, Sophie had attracted the attention of all the guards and they inched closer to watch the events unfolding at the center of the courtyard. One brave guard spoke up. "C'mon, Captain Holdt, show her what you've got!"

The comment spurred a round of agreement and encouragement from the other guards and Anna yelled down again, feeding off the excitement. "Yeah, go Desi! Kick her butt!"

Sophie looked up at the redhead and raised an eyebrow. Just whose side is she on, here?

Holdt was rather frustrated by the unexpected way his combat training was going today, but figured his men wouldn't get anything useful done anyway with Sophie around causing such a stir. He didn't exactly like to show off, but he was easily the best fighter among the guards. He couldn't turn down a direct challenge in front of all his men, especially one from a foreign woman who had just bested one of his better fighters like it was nothing.

"Alright, alright, lads, keep your britches on," he said as he took Revel's training sword. The men erupted in cheers and whoops. "But next week we're doing double rounds of combat to make up for this. Don't think you're gettin' away with slacking off for the day."

There were a few groans from the guards, but the punishment was quickly forgotten as Holdt stood across from Sophie and everyone else backed away to allow them adequate room to spar.

"Finally, someone with a backbone! First to disarm or land a lethal touch is the winner. Besides that, anything goes. Don't hold back on me, Captain, I do wish to make this enjoyable," Sophie stated as she took her ready stance, placing her heels together and turning her left shoulder to face her opponent.

"You sure you don't want to put on a sparring vest?" Holdt asked, not privy to the idea of landing a blow on an unprotected princess.

"You insult me captain. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't take a hit, although I don't intend to. Enough chit-chat, let's get started, I've been bored all morning."

Holdt grunted. "Ready when you are, Princess."

The guards formed a large circle around the two and began to cheer as the fighters locked eyes and approached each other. Sophie's face remained calm and stoic and she allowed the captain to advance, barely moving from her original stance. Holdt was the first to attack, lunging forward gracefully and meeting his weapon with hers. The two exchanged a few quick parries before Holdt backed off again, genuinely impressed with the speed of her reflexes. He lunged again, this time going for a lower attack to throw her off her balance, but Sophie was extremely light on her feet and easily sidestepped and fended off the blow.

Realizing that she was too fast for him to outmaneuver, he swung his sword in a high arc and forced her to block horizontally using both hands, hoping to rely on his strength to overpower her. Sophie staggered a tiny bit under the weight of the attack from her taller and stronger opponent, but kept her footing strong. She was able to gracefully move to the side and shove Holdt's sword in the other direction, causing him to lose his balance. She took the opportunity and hacked at his side, but Holdt saw it coming just in time and dodged backwards, the tip of Sophie's training sword just barely brushing his uniform.

"Good stuff, Princess. You've clearly been trained well," he said as he recovered.

Sophie smiled. "We royals tend to do things a little differently in Astor, I suppose."

There was a slight murmur throughout the crowd of guards in response to her comment, but the fighters didn't take notice as they clashed again. Sophie was suddenly on the offensive, pressuring Holdt with a flurry of attacks that he was barely able to keep up with. She kept her right hand behind her back and used her left to attack, all the while appearing composed and confident. Holdt was forced back to the edge of the circle before Sophie finally switched up her relentless assault and spun in place, delivering a horizontal blow that was so powerful it knocked Holdt's weight entirely onto his right foot. Sophie took the small window of opportunity and spun again, crouching low and delivering a sweeping kick to the captain's leg that sent him toppling over onto his back.

Before he was able to bring his weapon up to defend, Sophie was standing and had her sword at his chest. She smiled, victorious, and pushed her glasses towards her face.

The men were flabbergasted at the sight of their captain bested by a woman, a princess, no less, and there was a moment of awkward silence as everyone took in the unlikely scene. Sophie backed up and offered a hand to the captain, who accepted it and got back on his feet. Nobody dared say anything as the captain picked up his weapon, his face expressionless.

To the relief of the guards and Anna, the Captain burst into a hearty laughter. "Very impressive, my lady! I haven't had a fight like that in years! It's not every day you see a woman with moves like that!"

Anna called down again, sounding indignant. "Hey, I could fight like that, too, if somebody would have let me learn! Hmph!" She folded her arms and pouted.

Holdt ignored his princess' comment and addressed the men. "Take note, lads! That right there is true skill. Every one of you should be striving to be like Princess Sophie here," he shouted.

"Good fight, Captain. I enjoyed myself. Looks like my work here is do –"

"Oh, no you don't, Fi. You don't get to retire for the day just yet." Another new voice cut her off and Sophie whirled around to see Aaron had snuck into the courtyard sometime during their fight. He had a look on his face that was eerily similar to Sophie's at the start of her bout with Holdt.

Anna clapped her hands together. "Yay, Aaron's here too! You two should spar! Desi doesn't mind, right, Desi?"

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience my sister has caused, Captain. We didn't mean to ruin your training… we will leave immediately if you want us to," Aaron said.

"Bah, this session couldn't get any more derailed even if a bloody dinosaur were to show up. You two can do as you please, I'll make up for it later," Holdt replied with a shrug. "Besides, your sister is a master swordsman. It was a pleasure to see her in action." He offered Aaron the training sword and bowed his head slightly in respect to the prince.

Aaron nodded a thank-you and accepted the weapon, then turned to face Sophie who was grinning wickedly. "I didn't think you'd show up here. Weren't you the one who was worried about causing too much of a scene?"

Aaron tested the weight of the training sword with a few waves in the air before responding. "Well I heard the commotion and knew you must be up to something out here. I just figured I'd put you in your place so you didn't make that big head of yours even bigger."

Sophie stood at the ready and extended her sword towards Aaron. "Last I checked the score was tied at 28. Don't get cocky, dear brother."

Aaron readied himself as well, holding his weapon in his right hand and positioning himself in a way that almost exactly mirrored Sophie, his heels together and turned slightly the opposite way. "Guess this will be the tie-breaker then!" he exclaimed and charged forward, beginning the duel on the offensive.

Sophie was prepared and parried each blow gracefully, slowly stepping back and evading the onslaught of strikes. Aaron was just a quick as his sister and the two were exchanging hits so quickly that their weapons looked like a blur; the only thing suggesting they were even making contact was the consistent whack that filled the air with each parry. The guards watched in awe at the sight of the twins' artful bout, utterly mystified by the fact that this level of combat could come from royalty.

The only one that was making any noise was Anna, who was cheering and hollering from her vantage point on the wall, ecstatic about the amount of entertainment at today's training session. Her cheers were interrupted when she heard the door on her right leading inside the castle swing open and her sister emerged, looking concerned.

"Anna? What's going on out here? Are you alright?"

"Oh, hey Elsa! Looks like your friends decided to join the guard training today," Anna said pointing down to the barracks courtyard where Aaron and Sophie were the center of attention, their bodies moving so quickly and fluidly that they looked like a pair of dancers on a stage. Elsa watched wide-eyed from up above.

She had believed Sophie when she said that the twins were great fencers, but this was not exactly what Elsa had in mind. This was much more impressive than a prince and princess who enjoyed competitive fencing for sport in their free-time; this was a battle between two expert swordsmen of the highest caliber.

Sophie was now on the offensive, attacking Aaron with a renewed vigor, letting out small grunts with each blow. Captain Holdt could tell she was putting much more effort into this fight than she had previously; she had been almost eerily silent in the former bout, keeping her cool demeanor even in the midst of battle.

Now, there was a fire in her green eyes burning with an intensity that Holdt had never seen in his own men, or anyone for that matter. Aaron's eyes held the same intensity, but there was also a level of concentration and calm. He was calculating – plotting the perfect time to make a move that would throw his sister off - all he had to do was wait for it.

Sophie backed off and took a deep breath. She quickly tore off her glasses and tossed them to the nearest unsuspecting guard who barely caught them in time. "Hold those," she stated bluntly before diving back into battle with Aaron.

Aaron laughed as he deflected a high blow. "You're so set on beating me that you're willing to reveal the fact that your glasses are mostly for show? I'm impressed with the dedication, Fi."

She ignored him, continuing her assault. She grew more and more fatigued with each strike but kept it up regardless, adding to the force each time, slowly working away at Aaron's defenses. Aaron blocked each blow skillfully, but was losing control of his footing little by little and eventually Sophie saw her chance. She spun low and attempted the same sweeping kick that had taken out Holdt, but Aaron anticipated it and just barely managed to jump, avoiding the kick and delivering a vertical slash that had Sophie pinned low to the ground. He pushed his weight down, pressing the advantage, and Sophie struggled not to yield to the attack.

"Looks like it's about to be 28-29," Aaron grunted, convinced there was no way for Sophie to weasel her way out of the awkward position she was in.

"You're right," she said and then suddenly kicked out her foot and pushed Aaron's leg backwards. Since his entire weight was centered on the balls of his feet and he was leaning at a forty-five degree angle, Aaron lost all balance and fell forward. Sophie slipped under him, between his legs, and stood up in one quick motion.

She turned and jabbed her weapon lightly into Aaron's back as he fell onto his stomach and dropped his weapon, defeated.

"28-29, me."


	8. Secrets

Elsa tapped the surface of the desk in her study with a gloved finger, the twins' duel rooted firmly in her thoughts, its intensity lingering like a heavy fog on her mind. She couldn't seem to wrap her head around the fact that the polite gentleman she had met at the banquet was the same person she had seen in the courtyard fighting with all the grace and style of a trained samurai.

_It isn't completely unheard of for a prince to be trained in swordsmanship… at least in some kingdoms… but Sophie, too? It's just so strange. Could they really be –_

A rap at the door interrupted her train of thought. "A moment, Majesty?" Captain Holdt poked his head in, revealing a fray of messy red hair. He had bags under his eyes and his face was lined with worry, a sight foreign to the young queen as the captain was rarely ever stressed or anxious.

"Yes, Desmond, is everything alright?"

"I'm afraid not," he said, stepping into the rooms slowly and pausing. "One of my guards didn't report for dinner. He's still missing. We've searched the castle grounds thoroughly and he's nowhere to be seen. At this point, it's looking like a desertion."

"What!? When was the last time anyone saw him?"

"He reported for training this morning, I remember him being there, but he went missing sometime during the session or shortly after." The captain rubbed his eyes. "I just don't understand. I've been part of the Royal Guard for nearly twenty years now and never once have I seen anyone even think about deserting, especially considering the consequences."

Elsa frowned. It was true, desertion from the Royal Guard was a capital offense and if this man was found, he would be charged with the highest of crimes, either put to the chopping block or sentenced to prison for the rest of his life. Even with the looming threat of persecution, to think that a Royal Guard would defect was utterly baffling, considering it was a one of the highest honors of the military to directly serve the royal family and the men under Captain Holdt's command were always treated extremely well.

"He must have had quite a good reason to put his life on the line," Elsa said.

"Aye. He knew the risks, all my men do." He paused and scratched his chin. "Actually, there's something that's been troubling me, I can't seem to get it off my mind… the missing guard, his name is Liam. Remember, I mentioned him to you yesterday? He's the one from Astor."

Elsa went pale. "You don't think…"

"I'm not sure, but it _is_ a huge bloody coincidence, isn't it? A prince and princess show up to my combat training, turn it into a gladiator ring, and the only man in the guard from their kingdom happens to desert the same day? Something doesn't seem right, if you ask me."

The future queen tapped the desk with increasing vigor. "You're right… but what could it mean? There are a million reasons a guard might choose to desert. I don't see why the appearance of his former royal family would make him suddenly decide to leave."

The Captain grunted. "I don't either, but something's strange about it. Not that it's my business, Majesty, but how much do you know about these guests of yours, anyway?"

Elsa was slightly embarrassed at the question, but did her best not to show it. "Clearly not enough. But if this Liam is found, I would like to speak with him. Keep up the search and thank you for letting me know, Desmond."

"Of course. I don't mean to pry into royal affairs, but Princess Elsa, it is my duty as your guard captain to keep you safe, and I just want you to be cautious. Don't get mixed up in something… or some _one_ you can't handle. I will be watching for anything unusual," he finished with a salute and dismissed himself, leaving Elsa alone to her thoughts, the fog in her mind growing ever denser.

Soon after, she sprang into action, pulling out all the documents and books in her study and scouring the pages for something, _anything_ she could find related to the kingdom of Astor. She searched through every history book, every trade record, every treaty, every novel, but after hours of relentlessly looking, she couldn't find a single mention of even the word "Astor." Eventually she extended her search to the castle library where she was met with the same luck; it was as if the mysterious kingdom didn't exist at all.

_This makes no sense… I remember father mentioning his visits to Astor… surely I'm not imagining that._

The princess resorted to asking Abram, assuming the man must have some knowledge that she didn't. After all, he had invited the twins to the banquet in the first place. She found him in the east hallway and made a discreet inquiry about where she could read about Astor, hoping he wouldn't merely tell her to ask Sophie or Aaron.

The old man scratched his head. "I don't recall having any records pertaining to Astor itself besides the trade agreement your father made with King Harold many years ago. However, I do believe that Agdar, rest his soul, kept a journal whenever he went on diplomatic visits. Perhaps he made some notes about it. You might be able to find it in his study," he told Elsa who thanked him and rushed off to follow the new lead.

She made her way to her father's study, the same room where she had met Aaron only two nights ago, and began searching for something that looked like a journal. After digging through many of the old king's papers and books, eventually the blonde stumbled upon a rather large and old leather-bound book buried in a drawer. She gasped when she opened it to see pages and pages of her father's handwriting scrawled in ink, chronicling every voyage he ever went on since his early days as King. Determined, she scanned the pages for any mention of the word Astor, and after what seemed like an eternity of hurried page-flipping, she finally found what she was looking for.

_July 15th, 1835_

_Today we finally set sail for home after leaving the final destination in our trip to the western kingdoms, Astor._

_This particular visit stood out to me as it was one of the strangest I've been on. The capital of Astor, a large city called Calidae, is located by the ocean, luckily. We were able to sail there directly from Breymoore, arriving on the docks near the palace sometime in the early morning. The first thing I noticed upon disembarking was the awful heat – it was even worse than the weather in the southern isles and I was sweating like a pig as soon as I set foot on solid ground. It was unnatural, unlike any other place I've ever been to._

_The second thing I noticed was the state of the city juxtaposed to the enormous palace. It looked as if that one building was worth tenfold the value of the entire rest of Calidae. There were run-down buildings and terribly maintained roads, even in what appeared to be the central trade district. I saw broken street signs and trash in every corner. The smell was awful and everything looked so worn out and old, as if there hadn't been any renovations to the buildings or equipment in years._

_The palace, on the other hand, was absolutely stunning. If I were to put twice the amount of speciedaler into my castle, it still wouldn't be half as extravagant as the palace of Calidae. It made me think that the royal family must be extremely selfish to live in such luxury while the rest of the city remained impoverished. I would never leave my capital city in such bad condition – but alas, in the west, I am nothing but a guest with little authority, so there was nothing to do but keep my mouth shut and act as if nothing was amiss._

_The third thing I noticed was the distinct lack of people, despite the fact that it was light out and the city was clearly lived-in. I could count the number of average citizens I saw on one hand. It was almost eerie, I must admit, as if everyone was in hiding. I figured there must be a law or some type of rule that citizens were not to come in contact with foreign kings – however, I chose not to ask. To be honest, I was rather eager to get my visit with the King over with._

_To my relief, the Sinclair family, the royalty, was fairly normal. I would say they were even quite likable. King Harold was a soft-spoken but authoritative man, and I found myself getting along with him rather well. His wife, Queen Alma, was incredibly hospitable and kind. I actually enjoyed both of their company as we spoke. They did seem rather hesitant to discuss the politics of their own kingdom, but eventually we were able to set up a trade agreement and I kept my questions to myself after that, not wanting to offend my new allies. They were secretive, but polite, and I figured that their business was their own and prying would not look good for me or the kingdom of Arendelle. God knows I am no stranger to keeping secrets when it comes to ruling a kingdom, and my thoughts went to my daughter Elsa as my suspicions grew. I figured that whatever they were hiding, it must be important, and I can understand that._

_I found out that the King and Queen had a pair of young twins, a boy and a girl; I believe their names were Aaron and Sophie. Harold also has a younger brother that apparently lives there as well. I did not have the pleasure of meeting him, although the way they spoke of him, he was not the most sociable man in the first place. I did find it a bit strange, however, that they never even mentioned his name._

_Despite the strange quirks of the King and Queen, I left the throne room feeling much less uneasy than I did when I arrived. I ran into the young prince on my way out of the castle looking rather down; apparently his sister had just beaten him in a duel. To my surprise, he told me they both were practicing swordsmanship at an age no older than twelve! Imagine that! I wondered what Anna and Elsa would say if they heard that there were other princesses learning to fight. I probably won't tell them – Anna doesn't need any big ideas, she is already a ball of pure energy as it is._

_I gave him some encouragement and told him to not look so sad which seemed to brighten him up a bit. The boy was a good kid, very polite and well-behaved, not unlike my own children. I couldn't help but contrast him to the princes of the Southern Isles. I came to the conclusion he would be a better King than any of them would be. I suppose having a twin sister to keep him in check has taught him a thing or two – there is something powerful about that type of sibling relationship, especially for two unique children like them._

_The rest of the day was rather uneventful as we prepared for the long journey home. I don't think I'll return to Calidae anytime soon - or Astor at all, for that matter. It was overall a very strange place. However, I do wish them luck and hope that King Harold fixes whatever issues his kingdom is suffering from, whether it be financial or otherwise. If not, it might just be up to little Aaron to do so._

The entry ended there and Elsa looked up from the book, satisfied. It was a stroke of good luck that her father had the foresight to record his thoughts and Elsa was glad she found his journal. His encounter with the Sinclair family raised some new questions, but Elsa was relieved to find out that her father had at least liked Aaron and Sophie when he met them. Agdar had always been a great judge of character and it made Elsa feel better under the assumption that he would have trusted the twins if he were alive right now to make the call.

Still, Elsa's curiosity about Astor was far from quelled as she closed the journal. She returned it to its proper place, making a mental note of where she left the large book so that she could find it and read more of her father's thoughts later, before walking back to the residential wing in search of the twins.

As Elsa walked through the lengthy hallways of the castle, she thought about how much she wished she could talk to somebody about everything that's happened in the last few days, but she was at a loss. Her relationship with Anna was still stunted and awkward and the only person that now knew about her powers was the one causing all these confusing feelings in the first place. Regardless, she was less alone now than she had ever been, and for that she was thankful.

_If only it could last..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're curious, 'speciedaler' was the currency used in Norway during the time period of Frozen.


	9. Calm Before the Storm

"You're finished," Sophie said, folding her arms and smirking.

"I hate to say it, but she's right. There's nothing you can do now," Aaron agreed and put his hands on his hips.

"Everyone just shut up and let me think! I can do this!" said Anna, leaning forward in her armchair and scrunching her eyebrows together in concentration. The twins watched with agonized expressions, waiting for the redhead to make her move.

Slowly, she brought her hand forward and hovered above the white king. "I think… maybe… AH-HA!" she exclaimed, snatching the chess piece and slamming it down one space away before folding her arms and smiling in self-satisfaction.

Sophie tried hard not to roll her eyes, but it happened anyway. She confidently picked up her black queen and moved it to the place on the board that sealed Anna's doom.

"Checkmate."

"Awww, come on! I was so close that time! Okay, okay… best four out of seven," Anna suggested as she started to reset the board.

The three had been playing chess in the castle library for hours now and Anna hadn't won once against the twins, but that didn't discourage her from trying. If Anna set her mind to something, she would pursue it until the end, even if chess was a game that she had only ever played a few times in her life and she wasn't picking it up very fast.

Sophie threw her hands up and leaned back into the couch she was seated in. "Is this really all there is to do for fun in Arendelle? I thought you said this would be like a vacation, Aaron."

Her brother shrugged and started to help Anna with the chessboard. "I'm having fun. Although I do wish Elsa could spend at least a little more time with us than she has been."

"I'm sure you would," Sophie said with a sly smile. Aaron flushed, remembering that he had told his sister the real reason they were invited to stay was because of Anna. To his relief, she kept her mouth shut about the whole thing, although he knew that she was thinking what a terrible romantic he was for only ever acting remotely interested in Elsa.

"Er, well, she is our hostess after all. Of course, I understand, she's busy…" he trailed off.

Anna sighed. "That's Elsa for you. Don't be offended, she doesn't make time for anyone. I hardly ever even see her. We used to be really close as kids, but… now, I feel like I barely know her," she said, her previously cheery expression growing somewhat somber.

Aaron noticed Sophie looking at him with an unreadable expression. "She does seem a bit difficult to get to know," he said to Anna.

The redhead shrugged. "I'm just happy that she finally made some friends. You have no idea how great it is to see some other royalty my age for once. I hope you guys stay forever!" The twins exchanged glances and Anna suddenly blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry, was that weird? That was weird, wasn't it… I just meant… you know…" Silence for a second as she shifted uncomfortably in her armchair.

Aaron suddenly broke into a hearty laugh and Anna stared at him with a blank face. She couldn't help but join him after a second, releasing a small giggle which grew steadily to a high pitched squeal. Sophie stared at them looking unamused as their laughs persisted, barely cracking a smile - until Anna accidentally released a loud snort which echoed throughout the library. After that, all three were howling in laughter, faces red, barely remembering what started it all in the first place.

Just as their laughter finally died down to a few lingering giggles, the library door opened and Elsa strolled in and approached the trio. "I'm glad to see you three getting along," she said, folding her gloved hands in front of her and giving a close-mouthed smile.

"Anna here was just showing me what an awful chess-player my sister is," Aaron said, trying to conceal the tears in his eyes, and stood abruptly to face the future queen. Sophie scoffed and waved a hand, not bothering to correct him.

"I'm so sorry I haven't been very available these past few days. Thank you, Anna, for keeping them company," Elsa said. Her sister merely smiled and fiddled with the chess pieces some more.

"Well then. Would anyone like to join me for dinner? I'm famished, and I could have Kai –"

"We already ate, Elsa," Anna interrupted. Elsa paused and looked between the other three, looking slightly disappointed. The younger princess added, "Well, you were nowhere to be found and Aaron and Sophie hadn't eaten all day…"

Aaron frowned. "I apologize, Elsa, I didn't know you wanted to make dinner plans," he said.

"That's quite alright, I just feel terrible that I was too late." There was a slightly uncomfortable silence for a moment before Elsa cleared her throat and spoke again. "Perhaps you two would like to walk with me around the castle? It's a nice evening and I don't believe I've given you a full tour of the outside yet," she suggested.

Sophie stood and chimed in. "I'll pass, I did enough exploring yesterday. But feel free to take my brother, I'm sure he'd _love_ that," she said bluntly. "Maybe I'll teach Anna here how to swing a sword."

Anna lit up and clapped her hands together. "Ohhh, yes yes yes! Teach me that thing you did that made Captain Desi fall over!" The two princesses quickly walked off together and disappeared through the library door, leaving Elsa and Aaron alone.

Despite her curtness, Aaron was grateful that his sister was tactful enough not to bring up the lie about Anna needing to be married off; he suspected Sophie knew it was a falsity. Sophie also seemed to understand that it was Elsa who had Aaron's eye and was actively trying to help him. She could be a mind-reader and loyal ally to her twin when it suited her, and Aaron took a mental note that he owed her one.

"I'd love a tour," Aaron said, breaking the silence, and Elsa gave him a thankful smile.

* * *

The future queen took Aaron outside just as the final light from the sun was fading and night was upon the castle of Arendelle. The two strolled around the stone walls enjoying the mild summer air, and Elsa pointed out all of the interesting facets of the history surrounding the ancient castle.

As they passed the entrance to the gardens, Aaron stopped. "An impressive garden. I would love to see the inside –"

"No, I… I'd rather go somewhere else," Elsa said abruptly, cutting him off. She didn't want to point out that she had avoided the gardens for a long time, a painful memory involving her sister creating a mental barricade to the place, forever cursing it in her mind. She grabbed Aaron's arm lightly as another idea hit her. "I know what I want to show you. Come with me."

They made their way back inside and climbed the tallest tower of the castle, arriving at a paneless window overlooking the central courtyard. After some prompting, Elsa convinced Aaron to climb out onto the roof with her. Aaron was slightly taken aback at the suggestion, not taking Elsa to be the type to explore the far reaches of the castle, but curiosity motivated him to do as his hostess said.

After a slightly uncomfortable few minutes of climbing and coaching by the blonde, the two were on top of the tower admiring a breathtaking view of the entire city and fjord under the emerging stars. The two sat next to each other and admired the panorama of the beautiful landscape, listening to the gentle sounds of the ships in the harbor rocking back and forth.

"Anna was the one that showed me this spot," Elsa said quietly, breaking the comfortable silence. "It was on my 19th birthday. I'll never forget it." She took a deep breathe, cherishing the scent of the summer air.

"It's beautiful. Somehow it doesn't surprise me that your sister would go so far as to climb onto the roof on a whim." He paused and looked at Elsa curiously. "I couldn't help but notice your relationship with her seems rather… complex."

Elsa looked down and began to fiddle with her gloves. "It's a long story."

"I like long stories," Aaron said, shifting to a comfortable position, his arm rested on one knee. "Besides, it isn't like I'm going anywhere."

Elsa looked at him with grateful eyes and sighed. For a moment, she thought about how she could put the single most life-changing event of her existence into words. It was no easy task. "When we were children, Anna knew about my powers. She'd always wake me up in the middle of the night to play with her - we would build snowmen and skate and play in the snow… she loved it, we both did. But one night I accidentally struck her with my powers," Elsa's eyes fell. "Her hair turned white and she was unconscious for hours… it was only thanks to my father's quick thinking that she was saved by Troll magic. The consequence was that she lost all memory of my magic. I've kept these gloves on every day since, trying to conceal the ice, and I've stayed away from Anna as best I can, bearing the burden of the curse alone. I just can't let her get hurt like that again… I can't do that to her… I can't do that to anyone…" she finished, her voice cracking ever so slightly.

Aaron listened intently and inched closer as she finished. "You couldn't hurt a fly, Elsa. I haven't known you long, but I can tell what a caring and gentle person you are. I really mean that." He sighed and looked up at the sky. "I'll admit, I didn't expect much when I came to Arendelle, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that I am quite fond of both you and Anna. I'm so glad I've gotten the chance to get to know you, and that you've gotten the chance to let someone in… even if you didn't mean to." He reached over and tried to take Elsa's hand into his, but she recoiled.

"You don't understand, Aaron. I-I'm dangerous. I can't do this. It wouldn't be fair to you, it wouldn't be right to –" She couldn't finish her sentence, suddenly bombarded by the flood of emotions she had been trying so hard to keep hidden. She broke down into quiet sobs, tears flooding from her icy blue eyes, makeup beginning to run down her face as she wept.

Aaron reached out again and pulled Elsa's gloved hand into his. This time, she didn't resist. "I've faced worse things, and you're simply worth it," he said.

Elsa succumbed to his touch, leaning into him and wrapping her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest and letting herself cry, something she had refused to do since the night she found out about her parents. Aaron embraced her, placing his arms around her shoulders and pulling her close. Neither spoke for a time, simply enjoying the closeness of one another.

Elsa cherished the warmth and safety of another person, something she hadn't felt since hugging her father goodbye, and she let herself sink into Aaron in both body and spirit. It felt like stepping into a warm bath after a cold night in the snow; there was a spark inside of Elsa's heart that began to grow like a burning fire, and something beautiful happened – Elsa's magic, the untamed beast of ice, lay dormant inside of her, waiting for her command, finally listening to its master and controller.

The prince and princess stayed like that until Elsa's sobs slowly dissipated into quiet sniffles. She brought her head up and wiped her eyes with one hand. "I feel silly… I'm sorry," she said.

"You have nothing to worry about. There are some things in this life that simply cannot be faced alone and it amazes me that you've been able to for this long. You are so brave, Elsa."

"I don't feel very brave," she replied with a sniff, although she looked far less upset than before. Aaron was pleased to see that she was actually beginning to smile.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"It's stupid, but… there was this thing I used to do when Anna and I were kids and…"

Aaron smiled, understanding. "You want to try using your magic, just like you used to." Elsa nodded shyly and Aaron gestured with one hand. "Please do. I'd love to see what your magic looks like when controlled and not icing an entire room," he smirked.

Elsa pulled away and the two stood up slowly. She took a deep breath and pulled off her gloves, giving Aaron a second glance. He met her eyes and nodded reassuringly, and with renewed confidence, she lifted her hands and released the magic from her fingertips. Blue light swirled between her hands forming a solid ball of beautiful magical ice and Elsa smiled as nostalgia overcame her. Then, she lifted her arms and the magic shot up into the night sky, exploding into a dazzling white cascade of snow above the pair of young royals. Aaron reached out and snatched a snowflake as it fell towards the roof, staring at the mystical sight with wonder. "Wow," he breathed. "Elsa, your powers are… incredible..."

The two looked around in silence as the snow fell around them, a visible contradiction to the warm summer night that graced the rest of Arendelle. After a moment, Aaron grabbed Elsa's hand and they interlocked fingers, a silent gesture of mutual affection. Elsa would remember this as one of her last good moments before it all came crashing down. It was the proverbial calm before the storm, but at the time, she didn't know it. What came next was like a dream horribly mutating into a nightmare.

Neither Aaron nor Elsa heard Sophie climb onto the roof. They didn't hear her unsheathe her blade as she crept closer. They didn't hear her ball her hand into a fist, cracking her knuckles in anticipation. It wasn't until she was physically upon Elsa - knife at her throat and arm around her body, forcing the future queen to the edge of the tower - that her presence was revealed along with the sheer rage in her green eyes.

"I can't _believe_ it," Sophie spat, directing her voice at Aaron who was standing startled and at the ready, his legs spread and his hands outstretched as if he were about to fight. Elsa screamed as she looked down at the lethal drop to the courtyard below, barely able to process what was happening as she felt the sharp blade dig into her neck.

Aaron nearly panicked. "Fi, stop, please! Let her go, we can talk about this, it isn't – "

"Talk about what!? Your utter stupidity? The fact that you're sitting up here cuddling with a Highborn like it's nothing? She's a magic-wielder, Aaron! I knew there was something going on here, but I never thought… I mean this is… _this_ is…"

"Listen to me, Fi," Aaron stated calmly and slowly, trying to talk his sister down. "She's different, she doesn't deserve this!" he said, stepping closer slowly and carefully. The snow that Elsa had conjured was now swirling in a grey cloud above them, evolving into a fierce storm completely out of Elsa's control as she clung to Sophie's arm, desperate to escape but powerless under the other princess' strong grip.

"Don't you understand?" Sophie barked, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "She's _playing_ you, Aaron. She's been plotting this entire time and you've been going along with it like a blind fool."

"I don't know what –" Elsa tried to speak but Sophie jerked her forward, silencing her instantly.

"You don't get a say in this, ice queen. I trusted you," Sophie said and Elsa could hear a sliver of genuine hurt in her voice, as if Elsa had personally wronged her. The storm grew darker as Sophie turned her attention back to her brother. "Have you completely forgotten everything we've worked for, Aaron? Everything we've _lived_ for? How could you possibly be on her side, after everything Uncle has done, after everything he…?" she faltered and held back a sob. "What other option do we have? She has to _die_ ," she screamed. Blood began to trickle down Elsa's neck as the knife inched closer with each word Sophie said.

"No, she doesn't, Fi!" Aaron yelled through the loud whoosh of the wind. "There is another option – we leave. Right now. We collect our things and go back to Astor, tonight. And when we get there, we keep our mouths shut about this entire thing. Uncle doesn't need to know, and neither does Father. This. Never. Happened."

Sophie snarled, tears still building in her eyes. Snow was sticking to her glasses and forming water droplets that obscured her vision, but she didn't care. The only thing she could think about was the hostage in her arms who was now closing her eyes and praying for her life.

Elsa hoped that Sophie was considering Aaron's words, but she couldn't be sure what was going on in her mind at that moment. The storm above was raging now and the wind had picked up speed, causing all three royal's clothing to whip through the air. The snow grew thicker and the rooftop was beginning to turn into a white magical maelstrom twice the diameter of the tower they stood on. Aaron started to lose sight of his sister and Elsa who were only feet away and he worried they would lose their footing and both fall to their deaths, a thought he couldn't even begin to entertain. He had to bring a hand up to protect his eyes from the howling wind.

" _Sophie!"_ Aaron finally snapped. Her brother's use of her full name captured Sophie's attention and she snapped her head towards him. He had only ever directly called her that name a few times in their entire life and only when he was extremely upset. She recalled his use of her full name the day he told her their mother was dead, and she suddenly realized this was going to come down to a choice that would forever affect her relationship with her only brother.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally pulled the knife from Elsa's neck and released her. The blonde immediately brought her hands to her throat and fell to her knees, afraid and confused but relieved to have her life. The storm quelled slightly and the wind grew softer, but the snow continued to fall.

"Look here, Highborn," Sophie said, kneeling to Elsa's level and speaking directly into her face. "I'm letting you live for one reason - my brother's foolish crush on you. But listen to me and listen well – you will never come into contact with us or our kingdom again in any way. From this day forth, Astor doesn't exist. You've never even heard of the place. You will live your life here _quietly_ and never speak of this to _anybody_. If you don't, I cannot guarantee your life. Understand?"

Elsa gasped, adrenaline still flooding her veins. "I…I…"

" _Do you understand!?_ " Sophie repeated her question, raising her dagger to Elsa's throat.

"Yes! I understand!" Elsa managed.

Sophie stood, satisfied, and sheathed her weapon behind her back in a hidden holster at her waistline before turning back to Aaron.

"We're leaving for Astor immediately. I'm going to Starcall Inn to inform the captain, and you're coming with me. I don't care if he's sleeping, we will wake him and the crew to prepare the ship so we can set sail by morning. If I see you speaking to _her_ again," she jabbed a finger at Elsa. "I'll burn this entire castle to the ground." With that, she turned and nimbly climbed down from the roof, not even casting Elsa a glance as she made her exit. Aaron began to follow with an expression so full of pain and frustration that he almost looked like a different person.

"W-wait…" Elsa gasped, finally recovering from her stupor and standing. "Y-you can't… you at least owe me an explanation!" she shouted, locking eyes with Aaron as he reached the ledge above the window.

Aaron could barely even meet her gaze, his face full of apologetic sadness. "I'm so sorry, Elsa. But trust me, your life will be better without me in it," he said, and then he was gone.

Elsa could barely breathe. Everything she had gained in the last few days, all of the progress she had made, vanished before her eyes. The fear returned with a vengeance. Her magic mirrored her emotions, the storm above raging on even though the twins were gone and Elsa was no longer in danger.

For hours she remained on the rooftop and cried, curled up in a ball just like she had after her parent's death, not bothering to shelter herself from the snow that now covered her. She was used to the cold and darkness, used to the solitude, and she almost laughed at herself for believing she could live any differently. Aaron was a false hope and a pipe dream. She had foolishly let him come into her life and make her think that she was capable of being loved, of maybe even loving someone else. In the end, all that he had done was confirm that her powers would never allow that to happen; Elsa would be alone forever and there was nothing she could do but conceal her pain and bear it until her dying day.

Finally, as dawn approached, she snatched her gloves off the cold snowy rooftop and pulled them on before climbing down into the castle. She ran straight to her room before anyone could see her and slammed the door behind her. She leaned her back against the door and slid to the floor, her knees at her chest, and buried her red face into her palms as the room grew dim and ice began to line the walls.

That was the last time Elsa left her room for a long time. That is, of course, until her coronation day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened.
> 
> We're about to transition into the post-movie part of the story. It's important to know that the events of Frozen happen exactly like they do in the movie, so keep that in mind.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	10. White Panther, Black Swan

The royal ship of Astor arrived at the docks of Calidae in mid-morning, belittling the rest of the ships in the harbor not only in size but in elegance. _The Phoenix_ , as it was aptly named, was a magnificent vessel painted a deep crimson and black, complimented by the giant sail with the flag of Astor flying proudly, the colors matching the rest of the ship.

As soon as the ship was properly docked and still, Sophie emerged from the cabin onto the deck and cringed at the heat that hit her like a fiery tidal wave.

_Certainly didn't miss that aspect of Calidae,_ she thought as she and Aaron stepped onto the rickety dock. Her brother was silent, looking towards the city with sullen eyes. _Although this heat could be rivaled by the sheer coldness emanating from Aaron right now._

Aaron walked past her, not even sparing her a glance. The twins hadn't spoken barely a word to each other the entire two-day voyage back to their home kingdom. Aaron had sulked like a somber child the whole way, ignoring Sophie's remarks even when she attempted to make civil conversation about something unrelated to Elsa or the events on the rooftop two nights before.

Sophie admittedly was at a loss for how to handle the situation, having never been given the blatant cold shoulder by her brother and best friend. She certainly didn't like the silent treatment, but figured it was best to give Aaron some time to come to terms with the fact that what happened had been necessary. Sophie's reaction surely was no surprise to Aaron, but he found it childish and callous that she had eavesdropped in order to affirm her suspicions and the scheming was something he would not easily forgive.

Despite the awkward air between them, the royal pair walked down the pier together towards the heart of the city, their guard escorts lined up on either side of them clad in black and red steel armor, the flame symbol of Astor shining proudly on their chest-plates and gauntlets.

_I hate the fact that Father thinks we need to be surrounded by guards… like we can't handle ourselves_ , Sophie thought as the royal convoy entered the central trade district of Calidae. She wasn't surprised to see the dirty cobbled street deserted, a clear sign that word of the royal twins' arrival had reached the city well in advance. There was nobody to be seen as the party moved up the large hill towards the palace, nestled at the head of the city like a misplaced golden crown, dwarfing the surrounding brick buildings. They eventually passed through a residential section which was not much more than a large slum with beaten down wooden homes and worn-out street signs in every direction.

Sophie led the pack of guards and her brother up the street, climbing the hill in the direction of the enormous golden rooftop of the palace. She sensed movement somewhere to her right and instinctively paused, narrowly avoiding a small stone that was on target for the side of her head. The guards drew their weapons and stood at the ready, searching for the source of the projectile, but the tension quickly simmered when they saw nothing but a small boy, no older than seven years old, standing alone in a nearby alleyway, armed with a second rock and a face plastered with rage.

"This is for letting my papa get sick, stupid royals!" he shouted and hurled the second stone which fell lamely at Sophie's feet, his mark missed entirely.

"Watch it, boy!" a guard yelled, taking an aggressive step towards the child before being stopped by Sophie holding an arm out in front of him.

"Go on ahead to the palace with Prince Aaron without me," she ordered.

"But your highness –"

"Go."

There was a pause as the guards gawked until Aaron interjected. "Well, come on, then," he said and began to walk ahead. The guards obediently followed, sheathing their weapons, and Aaron shot his sister a knowing look and nodded, a silent indication that he knew exactly what she was about to do.

Sophie adjusted her glasses as she approached the boy and squatted to be eye level with him. He was wearing nothing but dirty rags for clothing and a pair of broken sandals that looked barely functional. "Brave kid," she said and the boy just stared, attempting a defiant expression, making no move to flee. "I like that. What's this about your papa being sick?"

The boy eyed her wearily for a moment before speaking. "H-he's got a bad fever and has to stay in bed a lot. We don't have any money for a doctor and he keeps getting worse…" the boy let out a sniffle, his eyes becoming moist with tears.

_Another one... The Disease is getting worse... I can't believe even a boy of this age blames the entire Sinclair family for how this kingdom has turned out..._

"I see," Sophie said, frowning. She reached into the pocket of her black travel pants and pulled out a single gold coin with an elegant flame design on its face. She offered it to the awestricken boy. "Take this. Tonight, go to the tavern on the south corner of this street," she gestured to a building down the road with a large wooden sign over the door. "Give this to the man that runs it and tell him you need something called icebloom tea. He'll know what you mean. Tell him the Black Swan sent you and it's urgent. Take the tea to your father and tell him to drink every drop. It's a special medicine that will make your papa feel much better. He should be back on his feet very soon. Understand?" she finished with a gentle question to make sure the boy processed her instructions.

He nodded and accepted the coin from her hand. Satisfied, Sophie stood and turned to catch up with her brother.

"Things will get better, kid. I promise." With that, she walked briskly away, leaving the bewildered boy in the alleyway staring with an open mouth at the gold coin in his hand – a fortune the likes of which he had never seen in his young life.

* * *

King Harold stood in the extravagant gold-walled front hall of the palace waiting for his children's arrival, stroking his thick black beard and staring at the large metal doors in anticipation. When they opened, the guards took their stations outside and allowed Sophie and Aaron to enter their home without the burden of their company.

Harold broke into a hearty smile and met them halfway through the room, raising his arms. "Ho-ho! So good to have you two home! I was beginning to think you would stay in Arendelle forever!" He brought Sophie into a warm hug and clapped Aaron on the back. The King was a tall, but stout man with a heap of scraggly hair that was black at one time but was slowly fading to gray with age. He wore a lot of rings and always seemed to be wearing a comfortable robe of some kind. However, his head lacked any trace of a crown.

"Wouldn't that be a disaster," Sophie drawled as she hugged him.

"Well… how did it go? What are the princesses like?" Harold asked, directing the questions mostly at Aaron.

"It was nothing special, father. Our relationship with Arendelle will remain –"

"He flirted with the future queen and got wine thrown in his face," Sophie interrupted, shrugging.

Harold looked rather confused for a moment, but when Aaron didn't defend himself, he sighed in frustration. "I thought I told you to be polite and proper. I figured you could at least manage that," he stated, although he didn't sound particularly upset. "Bah – nevermind. I'm just glad you're back. You have no idea how uncomfortable it was being alone with my brother. Speaking of which…"

A thick silence followed as the twins anticipated the king's next sentence. "Alexander would like to speak to both of you, immediately."

The twins looked at each other first, and then the floor. It wasn't as if they were surprised at the request to speak to their uncle, but it still made them uncomfortable knowing they were being summoned the moment they walked in the door to their own home. They had hoped they would at least have a few hours of peace before being confronted by Alexander.

"I see. We will go to him as soon as possible," Aaron said. "By the way, how is the –"

"Nothing's changed, I'm afraid," Harold responded before he could finish.

"I see. And how are things going with –"

"Just the same."

"Any news about –"

"No news, I'm afraid."

Aaron sighed. "Has anything gone right during our time away?" Harold didn't bother to respond, a somber expression creeping over his bearded face. Sophie folded her arms and started to walk through the hall towards the inner part of the palace. She was eager to get to her room to freshen up after the long journey, but Aaron could tell she mostly just wanted to walk away from the bleak conversation happening in front of her. He followed after a moment, promising his father they would catch up later.

After a brief visit to their respective rooms located near each other on the north side of the palace, the twins emerged into the north hallway simultaneously to begin their trek to the throne room to see their uncle.

They wordlessly began to walk together through the winding maroon hallways, a rare uncomfortable air nestled between them. As they reached the enormous marble staircase that led to the fifth floor where the throne room was located, Aaron surprised Sophie by muttering a sentence.

"You ready for this?" he asked.

"…Am I ever?"

Aaron sighed. She wasn't being particularly difficult (at least not by her standards) and he still held on to some of his bitterness, but he just couldn't bring himself to face their uncle without having his sister on his side. "Fi, we have enough things to worry about without being at each other's throats as well."

"You're the one pouting and acting as if what I did was not completely justified," she stated, folding her arms. "I mean… she was a Highborn, Aaron! I'm still surprised you didn't kill her the moment you saw her magic."

"You think I didn't consider it? Of course I did, but I… I just couldn't… there was something different about her… and then we started talking and I…"

"You what? Fell in _love_ with her?" Sophie asked, a sarcastic bite to her words.

"…I'm not sure. But it doesn't matter now. We will never see her or Arendelle again. It's over."

"Maybe for now, but you and I both know that if her secret is revealed, Arendelle ends up just like Astor, and if that happens, it's on _your_ conscience – not mine."

By now, the pair had fully climbed the lengthy staircase, arriving at the top where there was only one destination; a huge steel door embroidered with the symbol of Astor guarded the entrance to the throne room like a metal sentinel.

"…That's not necessarily true."

"You're just saying that because she has a pretty face," Sophie quipped, causing a scowl to form on Aaron's face. He didn't bother to respond, pushing the giant door open and stepping over the threshold to the chamber beyond, Sophie in tow.

The throne room was nothing more than a long, mostly empty corridor dimly lit by lines of torches along the walls, casting ominous shadows that danced along the floor and accentuated the elegant red carpet leading to the throne itself. At first, the twins could see nothing but the silhouette of the throne on a slightly elevated platform and a man lounging on top, one leg lazily thrown over the side and his head rested upon a balled fist. When he saw the pair enter, the man flicked his wrist, summoning a bright flame from thin air that hovered above his palm and cast an eerie orange glow on his face.

It would be a stretch to guess that the man on the throne was blood-related to the twins; he looked absolutely nothing like the siblings even ignoring the heavy scars that line his face, creating a gruff and intimidating visage. His ferocious features were accentuated by his long black hair that fell past his brow and a set of piercing gold eyes, the color unnaturally yellow and bright, almost like a cat.

"Well… Well… Well…" the deep baritone of the man's voice filled the chamber and sent chills down both Aaron and Sophie's spines. "If it isn't the White Panther and the Black Swan of Calidae," he drawled as the pair approached and dropped to one knee in almost perfect unison.

"Uncle," they greeted him simultaneously.

" _Lord Alexander!"_ he boomed, throwing his foot to the floor and leaning forward on the throne. Every torch in the room flared brightly in response to the sudden outburst, illuminating the room in a flash of orange light. "You two don't deserve to address me so casually right now. I was beginning to think you'd stay in Arendelle until I was forced to bring you back," he continued, his voice back to its original slow, steady cadence. "I assume that your extended visit means there's something to report?"

The twins stood now, keeping their gaze down and avoiding eye contact with their uncle. It was Aaron who responded, preparing to lie through his teeth. "We were invited by the heiress to the throne to stay an extra few nights, but there is nothing else to report."

Alexander sat back and played with the flame in his hand, flicking it back and forth at will. "The only reason I was okay with my brother sending you two to that little party was because there was going to be plenty of royalty from the Northern Kingdoms there – a perfect chance to spot another Highborn. I suppose it was a fruitless endeavor."

Sophie glanced over at Aaron for a split second. "We didn't see anything out of the ordinary. The Northern Kingdoms are clean, as far as we know."

Alexander grunted. "Well I hope you enjoyed your time playing castle, my dear niece and nephew. You won't be off making leisurely visits to other kingdoms any time soon." With that, he extended his arm and tossed the flame in his hand onto the carpet in front of the twins' feet. Instead of the red carpet catching fire immediately, the flame magically grew into a circle that surrounded Aaron and Sophie, trapping them inside a fiery ring that reached their waists. Both siblings merely clenched their jaws and bared the heat, unfazed by the threatening display of magic. It was nothing they hadn't seen before.

"I need you here. After all, family is oh-so-important, wouldn't you agree?" Alexander smirked.

Neither sibling responded for a few seconds. Alexander merely waited with a scowl, eventually snapping his fingers and causing the ring of fire to dissipate with a whoosh.

"Go," he stated abruptly, a jarring change in tone. The twins gave a half-hearted bow and turned to leave the throne room, trying to conceal their relief at the dismissal.

After the door fully shut behind them, there was an ominous silence. Then, a distinct cackling howl erupted from the throne room and a small spurt of red flame spilled out from under the steel door.

The twins didn't even bother to look back as they walked away.


	11. Frozen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the events of the movie in the context of my story and an important segue into the next act.

The next few weeks were a blurred mess for Elsa as she tried to push everything in her mind aside and prepare for her upcoming coronation. When she wasn't speaking to Abram or performing a necessary duty around the castle, she was in her room sleeping or reading, trying desperately to push the thoughts of Aaron and the night on the rooftop out of her head and concentrate on what was important – ruling her kingdom.

Anna was the first to notice her sister's abrupt shift back to her old habits. While the twins were visiting, Anna had begun to believe Elsa may finally leave her room and she had even been hopeful that there was still a chance for their relationship. However, one morning, she had awoken to find that Aaron and Sophie were nowhere to be found.

The younger princess hurried to a high tower on the south side of the castle and peered out the window at the harbor. When she saw that the royal ship of Astor was missing, she resigned to the fact that the twins had gone home without even saying goodbye. Surprised and somewhat offended, she thought about asking Elsa why they had left, but the blonde was locked in her room once more and seemed to have no interest in casual conversation with her sister – the treatment that Anna had come to expect from the future queen.

Left in the dark again, Anna eventually let it go, although the wedge between her and Elsa grew larger and stronger with every secret she kept and every day spent without each other.

By the time the coronation came, the sisters were like strangers again. Anna didn't even see Elsa during the two proceeding days leading up to the event. By the time the 29th of July finally came around, Anna was dying for some human company and the chance to start anew.

Elsa, on the other hand, had let her fear come to its peak. She had grown fairly adept at forcing thoughts of Aaron from her mind, but Sophie's ambiguous threat was constantly in the back of her thoughts. She grew even more anxious and paranoid every second about what could happen at the coronation with all of Arendelle watching. The royal banquet had been challenging enough for the young queen, but this was even more important – this was the coming of age of a new monarch, an event that only happens once per lifetime. If she screwed it up, the history books would make it known for centuries to come. As the gates opened at precisely eight o'clock on the morning of the coronation, Elsa could only think of one phrase repeated over and over like a depressing metronome – _conceal, don't feel._

There were exactly three times during the events of the Great Freeze that Elsa thought specifically of Aaron.

The first was when Anna introduced her to Hans, the man that would later become her most hated enemy. At the time, Anna was glowing, basking in the warmth of a new love (or infatuation, as Elsa saw it). When they had asked for her blessing of their marriage, she looked into Hans' green eyes and saw only Aaron in them, taunting her even from across the sea. It hurt to look at him, but what hurt even more was the fact that Anna looked so hopeful, so innocent, so completely sure that her sister would give her this chance to be happy. However, the blonde knew the consequences of rushing into love and she could tell this would only end in heartbreak for her little sister. Even if she would hate her for it, Elsa made the right decision.

_You can't marry a man you just met…_

The second time Elsa thought of Aaron was after the creation of her ice palace. As she stood on the balcony and watched the rising sun break over the horizon, she was reminded of her conversation with him at the banquet. He had been so gentle and calm, the kind of presence that made you feel safe and comfortable, almost to a fault. Elsa began to wonder what he would think about her ice palace if he could see it. He had been impressed by just a little bit of snow, so surely this grand feat of architecture would send chills throughout his whole body, and Elsa felt a smile pull on her lips as she imagined his reaction and what he would say. However, she only allowed that brief moment of nostalgia before casting the thought away, chastising herself for letting Aaron back into her mind after such an important breakthrough in her life.

_I'm a new person now,_ she reminded herself. _And the new Elsa has absolutely nothing to do with any prince. The past is in the past._

The third time she thought of Aaron was after her escape from the castle onto the frozen fjord. After aimlessly running in the endless white abyss for what seemed like hours, she was eventually found by Hans who informed her of her sister's death by her own hands. It was in that moment that all of Elsa's failures and all of the people she let down in her life came flooding back, assaulting her with thoughts of _monster_ and _witch_ and _freak_ and _Highborn._

Aaron was one of those people. While she didn't know the exact nature of his abandonment, there was no doubt it was her powers that caused it. How could it not have been? This curse had either pushed away or hurt not only every person she ever loved, but every person she ever _liked_ in her short twenty-one years on this Earth. As she stumbled and fell to the icy ground under the weight of the realization that now she had killed her only sister, the one person that had consistently given her a chance and shown her unconditional love, Elsa was so heartbroken that she would have been okay with dying right then and there.

She welcomed the chance to finally put an end to it all; the winter, the isolation, the utter pain at never being able to get close to another person or feel their touch. As she heard the telltale whoosh of Hans unsheathing his sword to take her life, Elsa made no move to fight back.

It was over. She accepted her fate - If dying was the only answer, the only way to silence the monster she clearly was, then so be it.

But Anna changed all that in an instant.

_"No!"_

A crackle of ice and a desperate gasp.

_She's alive._

A shatter and a rush of air. Then there was one more breath and she was gone again. If Elsa thought she was in hell before, she might have been right. But the fleeting glimpse of her sister followed by her final breath right in front of her brought Elsa to a place she never knew existed - a place far worse than hell.

But it didn't last long.

It was Anna who pulled Elsa up from that pit of depression with the simple act of standing between her and her assailant. It was Anna who showed her what it meant to be loved and made her realize that she had been loved all along. It was Anna who took Elsa's curse and turned it into a gift.

After Anna thawed and the sisters embraced, a familiar spark lit up deep inside of the queen. It was the same spark she felt that night on the rooftop as she cried into Aaron's arms – but this time it was different. This time the spark grew into a small flame, and that flame grew into a fire, and that fire raged on until it engulfed Elsa's mind and soul and made her power into something unstoppable.

The winter ended and all the ice in the kingdom flew into the sky forming a giant snowflake; a spectacular event that would later be known as the Great Thaw to the people of Arendelle. Anna would simply know it as the day she got her sister back.

Elsa took her rightful title as the Snow Queen that day and showed the world exactly what she was capable of with no shame or fear. Now, with Anna by her side and the eternal flame of her sister's love deep within her, Elsa was the epitome of strength. An act of true love was enough to thaw a frozen heart, but there is nothing on this planet, magic or no, that is now or ever will be capable of thawing a frozen fire.


	12. Blessings

_**Two years later…** _

An awkward silence filled the room as Queen Elsa sat in her office across from a hulking blonde-haired man playing with his hands, fixating her with a nervous gaze.

"Kristoff, I thought I told you that you don't need to set up a meeting in order to speak with me. You practically live in the castle anyway, just come by my room."

Kristoff rubbed the back of his neck and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I know, Elsa. It's just… there's something kinda important I wanted to ask you," he said, taking a moment to adjust his stiff collar. Elsa almost giggled at the sight of the mountain man dressed in a nice shirt that was just barely too small for him tucked into a pair of formal trousers. It didn't particularly suit him, but despite Anna's insistence that her boyfriend didn't need to dress up whenever he was in the castle, he always made an attempt to look nice anyway, partly due to the fact that he would look completely out of place otherwise.

"Well, spit it out then," Elsa said, crossing her legs. "You've piqued my curiosity."

Kristoff took a deep breath. "Alright, well, I guess I'll just say it – I want to ask Anna to marry me." He paused. "And I just thought… well with you being the queen and her sister and all…" he attempted to stammer out an explanation. Luckily for him, Elsa could tell exactly where this was going.

"Kristoff…" she interjected politely, "are you trying to ask me for my blessing to marry my sister?" she asked with a small smile. Kristoff merely nodded a confirmation and exhaled. The official Ice Master and Deliverer of Arendelle had never been great with words when it came to speaking to the queen, a quality that Elsa actually found endearing if not a bit annoying. She knew that he was always trying to be on his best behavior around her and she couldn't fault him for that.

"You've been dating my sister for how long now?" Elsa asked, keeping her expression neutral.

"Uh, almost two years now. I think it's about time."

It was a loaded question that Elsa already knew the answer to, but she liked subtly testing her sister's boyfriend, if only to watch him squirm a little.

"And you love her, of course, right?"

Elsa already knew the answer to that as well. The man was absolutely head over heels in love with Anna and she saw evidence of it every day. Small things gave it away - from random acts of kindness to the way he lit up whenever he saw her. Even just the way he looked at Anna reminded Elsa of a love-sick puppy.

As she expected, he answered her question without any hesitation. "More than anything in the world."

Elsa nodded. "Then of course you have my blessing, Kristoff. Thank you for being thoughtful enough to ask me first. You're about to make Anna the happiest girl in the world."

Kristoff visibly relaxed his tense muscles and let out a breath of relief. "Thanks, Elsa. I don't know why I was so nervous about this…"

"Well, it is quite a big step. Speaking of which…" Elsa leaned forward, putting her elbow on the desk and resting her chin on her hand, giving him a sly smile. "I'm sure you've considered that there are a few… complications that come with marrying a princess. Namely, _you're_ not a nobleman, my friend."

"It did cross my mind… but, I don't know, isn't being the official Ice Master and Deliverer noble enough?"

Elsa shook her head. "A made up title for a made up job, I'm afraid."

"So, what, are you going to knight me or something? I'm not exactly an expert with a sword," he said with a shrug. An image of the blonde man in a suit of armor wielding a tiny sword popped up in Elsa's head and she had to stop herself from letting out a giggle.

"Nothing like that. I'll have to give you some land within the kingdom and bestow upon you the title of Baron Kristoff Bjorgman. It has a ring to it," Elsa suggested.

Kristoff sagged in his chair a bit and folded his arms across his chest. When the queen noticed his disapproval, she added, "I know it's not really your thing, but trust me, this is going to save you a lot of trouble in the long-run. Anna has already gotten some… rude comments about dating a commoner. No offense."

Kristoff raised a nonchalant hand. "None taken. But if you're talking about that Oswin guy, he can shove it. Anna and I don't need some snobby, high-nosed noble's approval to be with each other… no offense."

Elsa mirrored Kristoff's hand gesture. "None taken. But if you want to keep hassle from the nobles of Arendelle to a minimum, for not only you and Anna but for me as well, you'll just have to play along. It's not like it'll affect your lifesyle, you'll just have a silly title tacked on to the front of your name. That, and you'll have to sign some documents accepting the ownership of land in Arendelle. Besides, my sister is worth it, wouldn't you agree?"

The mountain man sighed heavily but acquiesced. Anna was most certainly worth it, and the moment he realized what this conversation meant, he immediately lit up again and gave the Queen a wide-mouthed grin.

"I'm going to marry Anna," he announced. "I'm going to marry Anna!" The man nearly leaped from his chair in excitement. Elsa returned his grin and let out a soft chuckle as he began to pump his arms and cheer in victory.

"Slow down there, ice-man. First you need to propose," Elsa teased, although she was all too confident that she was now looking at her future brother-in-law. Kristoff froze from his excited bouncing and thought for a moment.

"You're right, I need to talk to Sven and Olaf. Thank you, Elsa! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he cried, nearly sprinting out the door. Elsa heard a faint victory cheer as he ran off down the hall and she found herself smiling even wider.

For a moment, the Queen just sat there in silence thinking to herself about the future that Anna was about to step into. She was genuinely happy for both her sister and Kristoff, but she couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy creep up in the back of her mind.

_What kind of future do I have?_

It had been two years since the Great Thaw and Elsa's life was just now beginning to settle back into a semblance of normalcy. The aftermath of the great freeze had been enough to swallow her life whole for most of the following year. Not that there had been much physical clean-up – in fact, quite the opposite. Her powers were not only able to get rid of all the ice in the entire kingdom, but they had caused all of the trees, plants, and crops to grow back in full health, saving the monarch from the hassle of rebuilding the economy from scratch.

What had been most taxing about the entire ordeal was the people's reaction to a Queen with such an enormous amount of power at her fingertips. While there were those that accepted her rule without question and reveled in the glory of her powers, there were also those that still feared and rejected a magic-wielding ruler. For weeks after the Great Thaw, Elsa was forcibly put on trial by a council of nobles at the demand of a large group of commoners who had been most negatively affected by the severity of the unexpected winter.

Elsa had accepted the trial without question and attempted to earn the trust of her people by acknowledging her mistake and proving that she had her power under strict control. She even made an elegant speech in front of the council, made up of nine high-ranked noblemen including Abram, and an audience of nobles and commoners alike. In it, she promised that no such outburst would ever happen again as long as she was allowed to rule. They were words that Elsa wasn't even entirely sure of herself, but she had been convincing in her speech and in the end, she gained the favor of the council. With Abram at its head, Elsa was given her royal rights in full and announced the official Queen again with the caveat that if her powers ever caused any further disaster, she would be stripped of her title and Anna would become the new ruler.

For a monarchy, the people of Arendelle were strong-willed. They wouldn't be bullied by a ruler so easily and they made it clear that if she lost control of her powers, they wouldn't hesitate to remove her from the throne. Luckily, Elsa remained extremely collected and calm throughout the entire trial and since the Great Thaw, she had never once shown any indication of a loss of control of her magic.

After some time, the fear and uneasiness dissipated throughout the kingdom and people grew to not only accept Elsa as their ruler, but love her as their Queen. She was the one and only Snow Queen, a magical ruler the likes of which the world had never known, and Arendelle was proud of her.

Elsa was both relieved and a little put off by that fact. Sometimes she felt as though she was no more than a trophy to her people, something to show off to other kingdoms. At least, it used to be that way.

Lately, Elsa found herself using her powers more and more in front of her guards and the noblemen in ways that were a bit more aggressive than creating an ice-rink or causing a light snowfall. She recalled the time she caught several members of the royal guard drinking on the job on the southern guard tower. She had stumbled upon them during an out-of-routine nightly stroll and was already having a particularly stressful day. She wasn't sure what exactly came over her, but instead of calling Captain Holdt to dish out a formal punishment, she had frozen their drinks in their hands in anger and shattered them with a clench of her fist. The broken glass had even cut one of the guard's fingers and caused the rest of them to cower in fear.

At first Elsa had felt bad about the incident as it was a rash display of power, but it had at least been effective. Those guards never disrespected the rules of the castle or their Queen ever again.

When Anna had heard about that little outburst, she didn't hesitate to chastise her sister's behavior. "Are you crazy? You can't go around threatening our guards like that with your powers! People will begin to think you're some kind of power-hungry maniac, and that's the last thing we need."

Elsa had apologized and immediately regretted that decision, but still, she was growing tired of being thought of as some kind of fragile creature who just happens to also be the ruler of the kingdom.

However, as always, it was Anna who kept her in check the whole way. The girl had barely left Elsa's side the month after the Great Thaw, even putting her new boyfriend to the side in favor of spending time with her sister. The way Anna saw it, she and Elsa had thirteen years of quality time to catch up on. Elsa made it a point to always keep her door open, even when she was doing something bureaucratic, and tried to make time for her sister as much as she was able, even when her schedule was at its busiest. It was exhausting, but eventually even Anna grew tired of building snowmen and ice-skating with her sister every single day. That's when things finally began to calm down to the way they were now.

With everything going on - between wresting control of her kingdom and nurturing her newfound relationship with Anna - Elsa barely found any time for herself. Now that Anna and Kristoff were going to get married, where would that leave her? The closest contact she had with a man since the Great Thaw was the occasional uncomfortable kiss on the hand from a visiting King or Prince who was either much too old or too young for her.

For the first time in quite a while, as Elsa sat at her desk alone in the wake of Kristoff's enthusiastic celebration, the queen found herself thinking of Aaron Sinclair. She almost instinctively reached over and opened drawer to her left, digging through a neat stack of papers until she found what she was looking for – a perfectly preserved scroll, still sealed with the wax flame insignia, the royal seal of the kingdom of Astor.

Elsa had received this letter (at least, that is what she could only assume it was) merely two weeks after the Great Thaw. Kai had brought it to her enthusiastically, presuming that the twins had sent a friendly word of greeting from across the sea, oblivious to the nature of their relationship with the queen of Arendelle.

Elsa knew better than to open it. She couldn't bring herself to read a word that Aaron had to say. What could he possibly want that would be so important, especially with everything else going on in Elsa's life? If it was an apology, the queen wanted nothing to do with it. If it wasn't an apology, she wanted nothing to do with it even more.

Still, something had stopped Elsa from simply discarding the piece of parchment as soon as it arrived. Instead, she buried it in her desk, putting it out of sight and out of mind, and there it remained for nearly two whole years, taunting her like a siren every time she opened that drawer. No more letters followed and Astor had remained silent as a nation ever since, so Elsa came to believe that whatever was in that scroll, she could live without reading it.

She huffed as she slammed the drawer shut again, once again dissuading herself from reading the letter. There were more pressing issues at hand that required her attention – namely, getting the paperwork in order for Kristoff's new title – and preparing for an imminent wedding.


	13. The Man in the Woods

"So what am I supposed to do again?" Olaf asked for the third time, scratching his snowy head with a wooden stick-arm and staring up at Anna like a lost child.

The princess silently huffed in frustration. "All you have to do is take the ring, carry it down the aisle, and give it to the priest."

"Why can't the priest take it himself?"

"Because he doesn't have it. You'll have it."

"Why wouldn't he have it if he needs it?"

"Because you're the ring-bearer!" Anna raised her voice, finally becoming fed up with trying to explain this concept to the little snowman.

Olaf stared with a blank expression for a moment before breaking into a wide grin, showing off his impressive buck-tooth. "Okay! I don't really get it, but I'll do my best!" In what could only be described as a very Olaf-like fashion, the magical snowman gasped and bounced up and down, changing the subject. "I'm so happy you and Kristoff are finally getting married!"

Anna chuckled and turned her attention back to the diamond ring decorating her right hand. "Thanks, Olaf. Me too."

The princess and snowman had been talking outside the castle gates in the courtyard for a little over half an hour as they waited for Elsa to join them. Anna tapped her foot impatiently. "Where is she?" she asked as she folded her arms and gazed at the giant wooden doors.

As if to answer her question, the gates swung open, revealing the Snow Queen dressed in a beautiful black silk blouse and skirt, complete with a pair of sturdy black boots. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Anna. Oh, hi Olaf! Are you two talking wedding plans?"

Anna beamed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Yup! I can't believe it's finally happening!"

The older girl gave her trademark close-lipped smile. "I'm glad to see you're excited. But there's still plenty of planning to do. A royal wedding doesn't exactly happen in a week," Elsa said, strolling over and grabbing her sister by the arm as they began to walk together. "Olaf, you should go talk to Kristoff and tell him you'll be a part of it. Anna and I have something we need to do," she suggested when she noticed the little snowman began to follow them.

To the relief of the sisters, Olaf had gotten pretty good about taking the hint when they wanted to be left alone, and he bounded away without question. "M'kay! Bye Elsa, bye Anna!" Just like that, he disappeared back into the castle with a new mission – and a new person to annoy.

The sisters made their way across the walkway and into town. When Elsa had told Captain Holdt that she and Anna were going to the cemetery to visit their parent's graves, he had insisted that she bring along a guard escort just in case.

She had refused, finding it silly to think she would need protection just to take a stroll through town in her own kingdom. While it was true that not every person in Arendelle was one-hundred percent sold on Elsa's reign, any dissenters would be foolish to make a public spectacle of it, or, god forbid, try to take her life in broad daylight. Between Elsa's powers and Anna's spunk, the two felt safe enough to make the venture to the cemetery alone. Besides, it would be nice to have the time alone to talk.

At least, it would have been if they were ever given the chance. As soon as the royal sisters set foot in the central plaza, they were noticed by a single on-looker with a big mouth.

"It's the Queen! A-and Princess Anna!"

That was all it took to open up the floodgates. Before they could walk more than ten feet, the siblings were surrounded by people, some shouting meaningless greetings at them and others just trying to get a good look at the rare sight of the royal sisters. There was no malicious intent to the crowd, at least as far as Elsa could tell, but the sudden burst of attention was perturbing considering the nature of the outing in the first place.

The sisters attempted to press on, linking arms, but it was no use. There were people insisting that Elsa show them her powers, some even being quite rude. Unfortunately, Anna was fanning the flames and making things worse.

"Hi there! Oh, hey, good to see you! Yes, this is my natural hair color! Oh – I… No, I'm engaged, I…" Anna was overwhelmed by the onslaught of questions, compliments, and random comments. The bombardment never ceased as more and more people started to notice the growing crowd and added to it. Soon, Elsa couldn't even see where she was going.

_Can't a queen have a moment of peace?_

"Excuse us," the queen finally stated, stopping in her tracks. The crowd immediately hushed and stared at their monarch. "My sister and I have somewhere very important to get to. If you all wouldn't mind…" she gestured with one hand and the crowd stood aside as if she were controlling them like they were made of ice. Just as she was about to continue on, she noticed a little brunette girl at the edge of the crowd clutching a small teddy bear and looking up at her with a shocked expression. There was a moment of awkward silence as the crowd grew silent, taken aback by their queen's frustration.

_Way to go, Elsa… How cold can you be?_

Unable to resist the opportunity and seeing a chance to redeem her little outburst, she approached the little girl. She was an adorable kid, dressed in a tiny blue dress and her hair was put up into careful pigtails. She reminded Elsa of Anna when she was that age, and she was suddenly hit with nostalgia.

Summoning her magic, she brought her hands together and let the blue light swirl from her fingertips. With practiced ease, a large glistening blue snowflake made of ice appeared in her hands, about the size of a fist. The crowd _ooh'd_ and _aww'd_ at the sight of their queen's powers until Elsa was holding a perfect snowflake ornament in her hands. She knelt down to offer it to the little girl who accepted it wide-mouthed and speechless, dropping her teddy bear to the ground, its value completely outweighed by the gift from the Snow Queen.

"Careful, it might be a bit cold to the touch," Elsa said with a warm smile.

The crowd quickly flew back into a frenzy, but this time their attention was on the little girl and the ornament.

"It's Queensice!"

"Is it as cold as they say?"

"I want to touch it! Let me see, let me see!"

Elsa and Anna took the opportunity to slip away from the distracted mass of onlookers and continued on their way undisturbed.

* * *

"That was really impressive, Elsa," Anna said as the two of them entered the first few rows of tombstones in the cemetery of Arendelle.

"What, that little ornament? You've seen me do much better."

"Not _that_ , silly. I meant the way you were able to get that crowd off our backs so easily. Those people would jump off a _cliff_ if you told them to."

Elsa pondered for a moment. She hadn't even really considered how easily she was able to get the attention of her people and get them to do what she wanted. It was to be expected from someone who could freeze you head to toe with the point of a finger, but there was clearly more to it than that.

"I guess it just takes a balance of trust, respect, and fear. I don't think anyone would like me if I didn't use my powers to amuse and create once in a while."

Anna clung tighter to her sister's arm. "That's why you're the best Queen Arendelle's ever seen!"

The pair were in the midst of the cemetery now and were approaching the tallest hill where three large stones were perched, each engraved with Nordic markings. The first two were marked with their parent's names, King Agdar and Queen Idunn, and the third stood slightly aloof but was made in the same style as the late king and queen's graves. That one read "Abram Fredriksen."

Elsa stopped in her tracks as the tombstones came into view. "Second best," she said to Anna, who followed her gaze to their mother's stone and nodded in silent understanding.

The princess and queen made their way to the top of the hill and knelt in the grass, pleasant memories flooding their thoughts. This wouldn't be the first time they had made this visit together, but not since the third stone was added commemorating the man who had been their uncle, mentor, and friend.

Anna put her head on Elsa's shoulder as they sat there in silent mourning. Wetness welled up slowly in Anna's eyes and soon enough she found herself sniffling and wiping hot tears from her rosy cheeks. Elsa put her arm around her sister and couldn't help but smile a little when she noticed that the redhead had chosen to wear the climbing boots Elsa had given her for her sixteenth birthday. They were embroidered with the initials of each sister and were very special to Anna. There was no doubt she had chosen to wear them today for a reason.

Elsa finally broke the silence. "You know what Abram said to me when he got sick?"

Anna shook her head, ruffling her hair against Elsa's shoulder. "He said 'Elsa, if you have any more secrets left in you, tell me now. I don't want to be in heaven and find out that Anna was actually a mermaid all along or some other nonsense.'"

That garnered a heavy chuckle from the redhead despite her growing cascade of tears. "A mermaid? How did he know that was always a dream of mine? That man knew us too well."

"Mhm. I'm glad he kept his sense of humor until the end."

Abram had gotten sick right after Elsa was given her rights as queen back after the Great Thaw. The physicians of the castle said they didn't know what was exactly wrong with him, but there was a silent understanding among Elsa, Anna, and Abram that he was simply old and his time had come. He took it with grace and dignity, accepting his death well before it came, and never failed to offer his guidance to the girls until his last breath.

For the next few hours, Anna and Elsa sat in peace and reminisced about their parents and Abram, telling stories and bringing back old memories that had been tucked away but far from forgotten. Finally, the light from the sun began to sink into the horizon and the cemetery was lit in the gentle glow of an orange sunset.

Anna picked some white and blue flowers she noticed growing on a nearby hill and carefully placed them in front of King Agdar's grave, a gesture that brought closure to their visit. The girls stood and began to take their leave just as dusk was upon them.

As soon as they began to descend the large hillside, Elsa spotted movement out of the corner of her eye and froze, placing a hand in front of her sister to warn her to do the same. From behind a tombstone in the distance, a dark figure appeared and began moving towards them. Elsa squinted as the figure grew closer and she could make out that it was a hooded man wearing a black cloak. It was too dark to tell much more than that.

"Can we help you?" she asked, a question that was meant to be more of a threat, but the man didn't respond. He was only about ten feet away now, approaching at a steady pace. Startled, the queen held out her left palm and released her magic, creating magical ice at the man's feet that spread instantly and crawled up his legs, binding him in place. He let out a gasp when he realized he was trapped and Elsa advanced on him, her hands up at the ready. Anna held back, unsure of what to do.

The man threw back his hood and shot his hands up in surrender. "Please, Queen Elsa, wait! I just want to speak with you!"

Elsa hesitated, but wasn't convinced. She approached close enough to study the man's face. He looked to be in his late thirties, with curly black hair and a tan complexion, a feature that was uncommon in the Northern Kingdoms. He definitely looked foreign, but from where, Elsa could only guess.

Anna spoke first, standing at Elsa's side, unfazed. "If you just wanted to talk, you shouldn't be sneaking up on an ice-wielding queen wearing a dark cloak. In a cemetery. Genius idea," she said, folding her arms.

"I apologize for startling you, but I heard in town that the queen and princess were seen heading towards the cemetery and I had to take the opportunity to speak with you. I wasn't sure I would get the chance again and I…"

Elsa interrupted, taking a step closer. "Wait… I recognize you…"

The man took a deep breath before responding. "You would, Majesty. My name is Liam Stroenburg. I… used to be a member of your Royal Guard."

Elsa squinted, taking a closer look at his face until finally her memory spurred. "Used to… you're the guard that deserted two years ago!" Elsa said, her fear becoming replaced by a mixture of curiosity and anger. "You have quite a lot of nerve approaching me after a crime like that."

"I know, trust me, and I will accept any consequence as long as you hear what I have to say. You can kill me, you can lock me away for the rest of my life, but please, give me a chance to tell you my story first. It could very well save not only your lives but the entire kingdom of Arendelle. I beg of you," he pleaded, clasping his hands together.

Elsa paused. She certainly hadn't expected that. Unsure of what to say, she looked at her sister, silently asking her opinion. The younger girl just shrugged, equally puzzled by the sudden turn of events.

"I say we hear him out. I remember this guy, he used to sneak me chocolate from the kitchens when Gerda wouldn't let me have any more. He can't be that bad. A little dumb, but not bad," she said casting him a wayward smile. The guard gave Anna an appreciative look but remained silent and waited for Elsa to speak next.

The queen eyed Liam up and down. She saw no downside to hearing him out, but couldn't even fathom what it could be all about. Unless…

Suddenly, she remembered. This guard was from Astor, and had deserted while Aaron and Sophie were staying in the castle. Surely that was no coincidence, and Elsa found her curiosity getting the best of her. "Fine. We'll hear you out, Liam, but for your sake, it better be worth our time."

The man simply gave a quick nod. "Of course, Majesty, but not here. What I have to say should remain behind closed doors. I live only five minutes from here in a cabin near the north side of town. We can talk there," he said and began walking down the hill in the direction he came from.

Anna began to follow immediately but Elsa hung back, gawking. When the younger girl noticed her hesitation, she turned to her and folded her arms. "Since when have you been so paranoid, Elsa? What's the worst that could happen?" she asked.

"This is just… a little strange, isn't it? Do you really trust him?" Elsa asked.

"Hmm… well he already said he would forfeit his freedom just to tell us something. It must be important. That's no small gesture, right?" Anna replied. Her logic was sound, and Elsa acquiesced. The sisters began to follow the former guard just as he reached the bottom of the hill and looked back.

Although she didn't say it, Elsa was less afraid of Liam himself than what he might have to tell them. Somehow she had a feeling it would bring back some painful memories.

* * *

The queen and princess followed the former guard through the cemetery in thick silence for what seemed like hours when in reality it was only a few minutes. They reached a crossroads and instead of taking the path leading back to the city, Liam followed the trail into the thin outskirts of the forest that overlooked the northern half of Arendelle. After a brief hike in which Elsa cursed herself for not wearing better shoes, the three came to a quaint cabin filling a small clearing.

"Here we are," Liam said, stepping up to the porch and opening the front door. "It's nothing special, but make yourselves at home. My wife is in town at the moment so we should be able to speak in privacy."

Anna did as her host said and entered, immediately flopping onto a comfy looking armchair in the middle of the one-room home. "How cozy!" she announced. Liam broke into a goofy smile at the compliment.

The cabin was small but homey, complete with a fireplace, kitchen, and what looked like hand-crafted furniture that matched the wooden exterior. Elsa thought she could sense the slightest scent of honey, but couldn't place where it was coming from. Despite the comfortable setting, the Queen fidgeted as she entered, her anxiety building.

"Please, take a seat, Majesty. I want you to be as comfortable as possible," said the former guard as he began to prepare a pot of tea in the kitchen that made up the left half of the room.

Elsa nodded a thank-you to her host before joining Anna on the sofa near the fireplace, the redhead giving her best attempt at a reassuring smile. Unfortunately, it barely helped.

_Whatever this is about, why can't I shake the feeling that Aaron is involved?_

Liam took a few minutes to finish the tea, pour it into separate cups, and bring it over to his guests, dragging a wooden chair over from the dining room table for himself. He offered the beverage and the sisters gladly accepted. Liam sat forward, his chair much less comfortable than Anna and Elsa's, but he didn't seem to mind. He scrunched his eyebrows together and stared into space for a moment. The sisters weren't sure what to say, so they simply waited in silent anticipation.

"Where to even begin," Liam finally said, taking a sip from his cup and sighing.

"What's this all about, Liam? How about you begin by telling us why you just up and left your duty as a royal guard one day without a word?" Elsa asked. Her question sounded more bitter and biting than she had intended, but Liam didn't seem offended. It wasn't that Elsa was particularly angry about what had happened two years ago, but she felt she had a responsibility as a monarch to uphold her rules or risk looking like a total pushover.

"Yes. I'll get there, but first, you should know why I joined in the first place. For starters, I wasn't born in Arendelle. I was born in Astor, in a small village west of the capitol. Like most of the kingdom, my family was very poor. There are very few legitimate means of making a good living in Astor, you see. Some live off the land or try to create cheap business with what limited goods we had – mostly fish and copper. My father was a fisherman and my mother a seamstress. They made an honest living, which is more than a lot of people can say. Unfortunately, many resort to crime. It's a rough place, even in Calidae, there are so many people without homes or anything of value. Stealing is quite common, but it is almost always out of necessity. There just isn't enough wealth to go around."

Both sisters were already about to burst with all the questions they had, but decided to let the man continue. Elsa had known already from her father's journal how poor the people of Astor were, but hearing about it firsthand was still unsettling. How could Sophie and Aaron let that happen when they so clearly were in no economic trouble themselves?

Liam took a sip of tea before continuing. "Anyway, one of the only honest ways to make good money is to join the military, and many young men do just that. I knew that I wanted to one day move to Calidae and join the royal guard, it was my dream ever since I was a young boy. However, it isn't easy to do. There are a lot of people with the same ambitions. When I came of age, I joined the militia. It was terrible at first, but at least I was fed every day. I wasn't moving up any time soon, or so I thought, but one day I got lucky. I was stationed at the entrance to my village when I got word that the prince and princess would be passing through. That was the day that sealed my fate."

"So you knew Aaron and Sophie, then?" Anna asked, and Liam chuckled.

"Indeed, I did, although it's strange to hear them called by their real names. To the people of Astor, Prince Aaron is known simply as the White Panther and Princess Sophie as the Black Swan. Many of the common folk wouldn't even know their real names if you were to ask them."

Elsa set down her teacup, suddenly very curious. "White Panther and Black Swan? Why would they ever take on such silly aliases?"

Liam shrugged. "I'm not sure of the exact origin. My guess it has something to do with their uncle spreading propaganda about his niece and nephew. Fear-mongering, I suppose, might be the appropriate term."

"Uncle? Don't you mean father?" Elsa asked.

"Ah. I am not surprised you have no knowledge of Alexander Sinclair, the king's brother. He probably wants it that way. Tell me, have you ever found any texts that chronicle the history of Astor or its royal family?"

Elsa recalled her frantic attempt to find out about the mysterious place two years ago. "Now that you mention it, no. The castle has history books about nearly everywhere except for Astor."

Liam shook his head. "That's exactly how he wants it. I'm not surprised. But I'll get to that."

"Right, sorry to interrupt," Anna said.

"It's quite alright. As I was saying, I was tasked with escorting the White Panther through my city. Why they chose me, I don't know, but it changed my life. You see, Aaron actually started talking to me, making conversation like I was his equal. He asked about my family, my hobbies… he was kind, which was something I would never have expected from the White Panther himself. Long story short, I ended up telling him that it was my dream to one day be a royal guard. Two weeks later, I was transferred to Calidae and began basic training as a castle guard. I knew it was no coincidence – Aaron had done me a favor, and my dream had come true… or so I thought at the time. I had known about the Fire Lord since I was a child – everyone did. But working at his home and being in his vicinity every day was… nothing short of traumatizing."

"Fire Lord?" Elsa asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That's right," Liam said, looking Elsa dead in the eyes. "This may be a shock to you, but you aren't the only ruler with powers like yours, Queen Elsa. Alexander Sinclair, Harold's brother, wields magic much like yours, only he commands fire, not ice – and he rules his kingdom with it through fear and destruction. King Harold's reign is an illusion, a farce, a cover-up for the truth. The kingdom belongs to Alexander and Alexander alone. He is ruthless, psychotic – even his own family is under his control for fear of being incinerated in an instant. I have witnessed his power first-hand. He has killed with the flick of a wrist and, worst of all, there is nobody strong enough to stand up to him."

Liam paused for a moment and let his confession sink in. The sisters were both left speechless. To think that Aaron and Sophie were directly related to a being like that was haunting in more ways than one, and Elsa was suddenly furious recalling what had happened on the rooftop before they left.

"That means… Aaron and Sophie are…" Elsa wasn't sure what to say next. Evil? Liars?

Liam continued. "Alexander Sinclair is obviously a monster, but the twins… I was never quite able to figure them out. Many fear them simply because they are members of the royal family. Alexander's cruelty was not exactly a secret, and he trained his niece and nephew from a young age to become deadly fighters. Those two are still the most skilled swordsmen I've ever come across in all my years as a military man. However, during my time in the castle of Calidae, I came to know them better than most. Aaron and Sophie were not simply pawns of their uncle, nor were they your average prince and princess. Several times they were seen sneaking out of the castle at night. Where they would go, I never found out, but the guards knew better than to do anything about it. God knows we weren't much more than decoration at the castle anyway. But the Panther and the Swan were always kind to the guards. I remember they brought us extra rations of food on our late night shifts and occasionally some wine from the kitchen even though we were never allowed to drink. I grew quite fond of them, in fact."

Elsa was slightly relieved to hear that, but her uneasiness was growing. "And the… 'real' king and queen? What about them?"

Liam snorted. "They might as well have been ghosts. Harold and Alma were kind folks, but they were rarely ever around. To me, it seemed like their only purpose was to fool visiting dignitaries or ambassadors. Otherwise, they simply lived in fear of Alexander just like the rest of us."

"That's horrible!" Anna shouted. "How could this be happening right under our noses!? Elsa, we have to do something!"

"Calm down, Anna. Remember, Astor is very far away and it sounds like this secret is enough to get Liam killed just for telling us."

Liam nodded gravely. "Working in Alexander's domain was… awful. Every time he entered a room, the temperature raised to ungodly levels. He was cruel to the guards, he would toy with us, give us completely ridiculous tasks. He kept some sort of… pet in the chambers. No, not a pet…a monster. It was a golem made entirely of molten rock, some sort of beast he had created with his powers… occasionally we would have to keep watch over it and it would just _stare_ at you like you were a piece of meat…"

Elsa felt chills run up her spine hearing about what it could've been like if she had turned out the wrong way. A golem? Was that somehow similar to Marshmallow, the ice-beast she had created out of sheer panic?

"I haven't even gotten to the worst of it. The reason I'm here, in Arendelle, and not still trapped back in that hell hole… it isn't a pretty tale."

Anna was sitting at the edge of her seat now, completely captivated. "As you might already know, Queen Alma is no longer alive. I'm sure you've heard she fell ill or some other… _bullshit_ …" Liam was growing upset now, temporarily letting his professional demeanor slip. His eyes were growing watery as he started to recall something.

"I-I'm sorry… but the truth is… Alma was murdered… by none other than Alexander, her own brother in law!" Anna gasped and threw her hand over her mouth. Elsa was equally shocked but showed less of a reaction, scrunching her face together.

"The only reason I know is because I was on duty that night. I'll never forget it. I was posted down the hall from the throne room, making my rounds like usual… there was some kind of argument - I could hear voices from behind the door yelling and screaming over something or other... Of course I couldn't get involved, I just had to listen and pretend it wasn't happening. I was merely a low ranking guard, after all. Then there was a burst of heat and… Alma's voice... and the twins… I heard her screams, I heard her beg for her life, I…" the man was struggling to continue.

"I couldn't stand to be in that castle any longer. Not with that monster. Not s _erving_ that monster. I would rather die. So I did what I always do, like the coward I am, I ran. The next day I sold my guard armor and almost everything I own to buy a boat. I scrounged up whatever supplies I could, I did some things I'm not proud of just to get what I needed, and I set sail within the week. That's how I came here."

"You sailed all the way from Astor to Arendelle… by yourself!?" asked Elsa, incredulous.

"Not exactly. I washed up on the shore of Penbrooke three days later and from there I travelled north looking for work. To this day I still don't know how I was able to survive that voyage, but somehow I did it. I guess the gods were on my side. Anyway, I worked odd jobs for a time, glad to be away from Astor and given a chance to start over. I did anything that would make me money, but most of my jobs involved delivering goods.

I eventually came to Arendelle about four years ago delivering carpets to a tavern. I decided to buy a drink at the bar before leaving and, by pure dumb luck, I happened to meet Captain Holdt there. He was off duty and was simply looking for someone to chat with. We started talking - I told him I was a former military man looking for work and, bless his soul, the man got me a job at the castle as a member of the royal guard. I owed him so much. That's how I came into your service, Majesty. Until…"

Elsa was a little put off by the informality of her guard captain's hiring process, but she decided to let it slide for now. She was finally putting the pieces together. "Until the White Panther and Black Swan showed up unexpectedly one day."

The former guard gave a solemn sigh in confirmation. "I panicked. Aaron and Sophie would surely have recognized me if they saw me and it's not like I could have easily avoided them. Those two have a knack for being where the weapons are at all times."

"But I thought you said the twins were kind to the guards? They probably wouldn't have even said anything," Anna suggested.

"It's possible, but I couldn't risk it. What if they charged me with treason? What if they deported me back to Astor? That would surely mean my life. Aaron may be forgiving but Sophie… she's one that follows the rules. And I broke the rules."

There was no counter argument there, and Anna and Elsa merely gave Liam a sympathetic look before he continued. "So, like I always do, I ran. Again. I fled from the castle, but I remained in Arendelle. I have grown quite fond of this place, after all. I found work as an ice harvester and have been living out here ever since," he gestured to the surrounding cabin.

"I even found myself a wife. Things have been… good. This is a life I never would have found in Astor. Queen Elsa, you have to understand that my desertion was not personal. I have remained loyal to you and this kingdom ever since. That's why I have found you today and told you all of this. Arendelle is my home, and you are my only queen." He placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head, sitting upright in his chair.

Despite her queenly responsibilities, Elsa had already made her decision regarding this man's life. "You have been through a lot, Liam. Stay. Live your life here in Arendelle, but remember that you owe it to the Snow Queen. I shouldn't have to remind you, however, that you are not to come to the castle again."

Liam looked visibly relieved. "Of course, Queen Elsa. I am yours for eternity."

"I do have one question though… why did you wait until now to come to us with this? Surely you could have found a way to speak to us earlier?"

Liam rubbed the back of his neck. "Partly due to fear. I am a coward when it all comes down to it. But also… your powers, I'm sure you know, are not only known to the people of Arendelle but other kingdoms as well. Word has spread about you, Majesty. I worry that if and when Alexander hears that there is another ruler like him out there…"

Elsa started. "You don't think he would go to war with us, do you?"

Liam shook his head. "I can't be sure. I was never exactly in the inner loop of the royal family of Astor, but there were rumors of other magic users called… Highborn, was it? Anyway, I didn't think they existed until you revealed yourself, but now... I can't see Alexander ignoring it. I had to tell you so you at least know he's out there and he may very well have you in his sights."

"Well we don't know if that's true, right? And even if he does, Elsa can handle him, I'm sure," Anna said, although her expression contradicted her optimism. There was a distinct uncertainty lingering in the room.

"Right. Liam, what you have told us is invaluable. Thank you." She glanced out the window and noticed it was now pitch black outside. "I believe we should be going now. Kai is probably having a panic attack," Elsa said, setting down her teacup and standing. Anna followed suit, her usually cheery demeanor faltering as the sisters made their way to the door. "There is also a certain letter that I feel the need to read..." she finished.

"I am forever indebted to you, my queen, my princess," said the former guard as the royal sisters saw themselves out, bowing to each of them deeply. Elsa and Anna returned the gesture with a slight head nod each.

"Goodbye, Liam," Elsa said.

Liam said just one more thing before closing the door - two words that echoed in Elsa's head the entire way home.

"Be careful."


	14. Friend and Foe

Summer came and went from the kingdom of Arendelle faster than anyone had hoped. Autumn was quickly upon the mountain capital, erupting the landscape in a dazzling spectrum of red and orange. The city was abuzz as its people scrambled to prepare for the inevitable cold of the coming months.

The looming threat of the northern winter meant a tripling of responsibilities for Elsa – she had to ensure that there were enough crops and supplies for the season, conduct inspections to make sure buildings and homes were properly insulated, and also make sure trade propositions would continue smoothly throughout the harsh, icy conditions in the mountains. It was all extremely exhausting and Elsa found herself with mounds of paperwork to finish. Just looking at it formed a knot in her stomach.

With all of the work that required her immediate attention, the queen barely had the time to even think about the situation that had come to light from her conversation with Liam. She hadn't touched Aaron's letter, either, and it continued to burn a hole in her desk as well as her mind. Even though it tore her up inside, she decided it would simply have to wait until she had everything in her own kingdom in order.

Anna, on the other hand, still thought about Astor quite often. While her sister had a million bureaucratic responsibilities as queen, the princess was often left with little to do around this time of year. With no public appearances to make and everyone's attention on less social events and occasions (which Anna was usually heavily involved in), the redhead found herself cooped up in the castle, bored to tears and cursing the world for making summer leave the kingdom once again.

Kristoff was also too busy to spend much time with his new fiancée. As the head of the Ice Delivery services for the kingdom, he was in charge of the harvesting excursions for the season. It was a duty that he had never asked for and hated doing each year, but Elsa insisted that his job title had to come with some responsibilities or else it wouldn't be taken seriously in the castle. Anna had agreed, much to Kristoff's dismay, and the former lone ice harvester was suddenly the employer of an entire group of men working for the royalty – a task that required a lot of attention and, regrettably, pulled him away from his recently betrothed.

Even Olaf seemed to be busier this time of year, trying desperately to take in as much of the summer as he could before it was over. He would often wander out into the gardens or the forest and wouldn't be seen for hours. What exactly he was doing out there by himself was anyone's guess.

With so much commotion, Anna found herself spending a lot of time with Sven (the only one with absolutely nothing going on besides sleeping and eating). She visited him in the castle stables and often talked to him in hopes of sorting out her recent troubles. Although he never replied, it was always nice to have somebody to listen.

"You know, I think you might like carrots more than I like chocolate, Sven," Anna said, reaching into her bag to retrieve another carrot, incurring a happy stamping from the reindeer. "And that's saying a lot."

Sven snatched the vegetable from her hands before she could even reach into his stall. Once he had swallowed it whole, Anna did her best impression of Kristoff's reindeer voice. "Thanks, Anna. You're my favorite Princess in the whole world!"

Sven stared blankly for a moment and then lifted one eyebrow. "You're right. Doesn't seem to have the same effect," Anna admitted, patting the beast on the nose.

The stable doors suddenly flew open, letting in a burst of wind and causing hay to fly up from the wooden floor. Kristoff stomped in, slamming the doors behind him and pulling off his scarf from around his face. He let out a huge sigh of relief as he escaped the chilly mountain air. When he noticed Anna, he attempted to play it cool.

"It's, uh… it's starting to feel like winter. I never thought I'd say this, but if I never see a block of ice again, I would be happy," he said as he walked over to Anna by the first stall and removed his bag from his back.

"You don't mean that," the Princess said, putting her hands on her hips. Kristoff came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, swinging her in a gentle circle before putting her back down and kissing her on the top of the head.

"You're right. Ice is kinda my life. Hey buddy," he said, turning his attention to his reindeer best friend who cooed in happiness at his arrival.

"Where have you been all day?" Anna asked. "I've been feeding Sven carrots for the last two hours. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna make him fat."

Kristoff reached into the bag at Anna's feet and picked up one of the carrots for himself, snapping it in two with his teeth. "Carrots don't make 'ou fat. Carrots are goo' for you!" he said with a full mouth, and Anna smirked, giving him a light punch in the arm.

"I'm just so bored! And I can't stop thinking about how we're just sitting here doing nothing while there's some psycho out there that might want Elsa dead!"

Kristoff rolled his eyes. Anna had of course filled him in on the situation, but he didn't seem to take it as seriously as she did. "You don't know that's the case. There's no proof he even exists besides that one guy's word. Besides, if there's one person on this planet that doesn't need to be worried about, it's Elsa."

Anna sighed and began pulling at her braids. "I know, you're right. But if everything Liam said was true then there's a whole kingdom of people living in fear and poverty. Not to mention Aaron and Sophie, who were my friends… I just wish we could help them."

"You can't save the world, feisty-pants," Kristoff said with a half-smile and put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him and buried her face in his muscular chest, muffling her next sentence.

"Ahh, what's the point of being a princess if I can't even save the world!?"

Kristoff chuckled at the vibrations her voice made against his vest. "Hey, stop worrying. We've got bigger fish to fry than some fire freak across the ocean. Like our wedding, for instance. Which reminds me, the reason I came here in the first place…" He reached into his bag on the ground and pulled out an enormous, gaudy silver bow tie. He wrapped it around Sven's neck and as he began to fasten it, Anna realized what exactly he was doing.

"Wait a minute… is that for… what I think it's for?" she asked, folding her arms.

"Yep! Sven here gets to be the best man at our wedding!" Kristoff beamed, and Sven stomped around in excitement.

Anna slapped a palm to her forehead. "Kristoff, this is a royal wedding! We can't have a reindeer in the chapel with us! Elsa would never allow that!"

"Well it's not her decision! Besides, didn't you ask Olaf to be the ring-bearer? How come we can have a magical snow-being there but not my best friend who just happens to be a reindeer?"

"They're way different, Kristoff."

"How so?"

Before they knew it, a heated argument had begun. It took the better part of the afternoon, but eventually a compromise was reached (Sven would be allowed at the wedding, but there would be no best-man speech from him). Although the couple would never admit it, even when fighting, spending time with each other was the best part of both of their days by a long-shot.

* * *

The queen wasn't enjoying herself quite as much as her sister. Elsa was just finishing up a meeting with a tiny weasel-looking fellow named Gilbert, the farmer's representative for the potato yield for the season, when Kai arrived, badgering her with more work to be done. His voice was like a siren in her ears.

"Your Majesty, don't forget the court order that is to be signed today and your meeting with _blah blah blah blah…"_

The queen unconsciously tuned him out as she marched through the hallway towards her quarters, pretending to listen to the man as he clicked behind on her heels the whole way. When she reached her door, she stopped and abruptly thanked Kai before entering her study and shutting the door in his face. She was pretty sure he was still talking from the hallway as she made her way to her desk.

She huffed as she sank into her comfy chair, relishing in the rare moment of peace. On the desk in front of her sat a stack of parchment as high as her nose. Dismissing the thought of even beginning to tackle that beast, Elsa sat back and conjured a glistening snowflake the size of a fist that hovered above her palm, its cold magic creating a chill that filled the room.

Ironically, Elsa found herself using her magic on a whim as a stress reliever at times like this. There was something soothing about unleashing her icy gift, like she was expressing part of herself that begged for release. It was almost addicting, taking advantage of the power that belonged to her and her alone. Nothing else was quite like it.

Naturally, Elsa's eyes fell on her drawer where Aaron's letter was still locked away like a prisoner in a cell. Even for a queen, there comes a point where curiosity outweighs common sense, and before she even made the conscious decision to read the letter, Elsa was holding it in her hands.

_I might as well do it now while I'm already stressed beyond belief. How much worse could it get?_

With a deep breath, Elsa broke the seal of the letter and unraveled the scroll. She steeled herself and began to read the hurried, yet elegant print that must have been Aaron's handwriting.

_Elsa –_

_I know what you must be thinking, and I cannot blame you. I'm probably the last person you want to hear from at a time like this. However, you should know right away that I am risking my life simply to write you this letter._

_Had your powers remained a secret, you likely would never have heard from me again. Now that all of Arendelle is aware of them, things are going to change, and I could not simply leave you in the dark about what this could mean for you._

_It would be impossible for me to explain everything about the situation in a simple letter, so I will do my best to convey the most important points. The first thing you need to know is that you are what is known to me as a 'Highborn' – a human born to a royal family blessed with the magical power of the elements. There have been others like you throughout history and there will be others like you in the future. The only other Highborn currently alive that I know of is my uncle, Alexander Sinclair, who commands the element of fire. There may be others, but right now, that is not important._

_The second thing you need to know is that my uncle is dangerous. He is power-hungry and sociopathic with little regard for anyone but himself. He believes himself to be a god and, as such, believes any other Highborn to be an imposter. Simply put, he wants anyone like himself dead and has been searching for other Highborn high and low for most of his life, using myself and my sister as tools for his hunt._

_Hopefully I don't need to explain what this means for you. As of right now, as I write this, I don't believe word has reached my uncle about your powers being revealed, although I can't be sure. When he does find out, he will most likely make a move._

_Fortunately for you, Astor and its military are not exactly in top shape or form and our kingdom doesn't have the largest pool of resources. That means you have time. What worries me, however, is that my uncle has recently made a connection with an outside source of income – a source that he is not even telling me or Sophie about. That by itself is suspicious. Alexander has an endgame that we don't yet know about._

_My advice for you is this: Lay low, as a queen and as a kingdom. Prepare yourself for the worst. That means bolstering your military defenses and training your men. I cannot say for sure that he will attack with military force, but you have been warned. He will likely not make any indication that his attack is coming, meaning even your trade agreement with Astor will be undisturbed._

_That is all I can tell you at this time. I will likely not be able to send you any more letters. If Alexander finds out I'm still communicating with you once your identity as a Highborn is revealed, it will mean my head. So this is goodbye, Queen Elsa. If we meet again, it will not be at a friendly banquet._

_Prince Aaron_

Elsa was stunned. A panic slowly welled up inside of her as she thought about all of the things this letter meant. She had received it two years ago, after all, shortly after the Great Thaw, meaning Alexander has possibly been building an army and planning an attack on her kingdom this entire time.

_Idiot, idiot, idiot!_

Elsa slapped a palm to her head. Her foolish pride had stopped her from reading this letter and now she had put her entire kingdom in danger. There was no way for her to see it coming, but still, it was a costly mistake and one that a responsible queen should never make. If Alexander attacked and she wasn't prepared, it would be entirely her fault.

For a few minutes, Elsa mentally berated herself, reading and re-reading the letter ad nauseam. Finally, she snapped back to the reality of the situation. She had screwed up, yes, but it wasn't too late. Between this letter and Liam's warnings, it was time to take action. Everything else could wait.

"Kai!" Elsa yelled as she hurried from her study down the hallway in search of her head servant. The red headed man was still close by and snapped to attention at the sound of his name.

"Find Captain Holdt and tell him I need to speak with him. _Immediately."_

* * *

Desmond Holdt stood along the stone wall of the southern watchtower, staring out into the harbor with glazed-over eyes, watching the ships on the dock bob in the calm water. Up. Down. Up. Down. It started to make him nauseous.

What was this feeling? Anxiety? Surely not. There was nothing to be anxious about. Was there? A premonition, perhaps?

Either way, he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

"Y'alright, Cap'n?"

A voice to his left pulled him from his hypnosis. It was Alvar, a fairly new, young recruit that was just coming into his shift on the tower. He was looking up at his Captain intently, standing at attention. The scrawny guard was absolutely dwarfed by the captain.

Desmond grunted. "Alright is a relative term," he said with a flat face. When Alvar looked slightly disturbed, the captain chuckled. "I'm fine, recruit. Just a little underwhelmed, I suppose."

"What d'ya mean, sir?"

He wasn't entirely sure what he meant himself. Feeling in a sentimental mood, the captain indulged the recruit's curiosity. "When I first joined the royal guard, it was the most exciting day of my life. I thought it was the highest of honors to serve the royal family, live in the castle, all that. But what I wasn't told was that it would mostly be a bureaucratic job. That I'd basically be nothing but a babysitter for greenhorns like you who haven't even been within ten thousand meters of a battlefield."

Alvar looked down and mumbled, "Sorry, sir…"

Desmond chuckled again, louder. "Don't be offended, recruit. It's not your fault. After all, the biggest threat to this kingdom in more than a decade has been the Queen herself, and that whole debacle lasted less than a week before everyone was praising her as a goddess incarnate again. Peace and love reigned supreme once again."

The younger guard twisted his face in confusion, picking his next words carefully. "Isn't that…a good thing, sir?"

The captain nodded, close-lipped, realizing his unprofessionalism. "Aye. Of course. I suppose I'm just an old war-dog with a few screws loose," he said.

"So you've… seen combat, then, cap'n?"

Desmond was slightly taken aback at the question. His reputation wasn't quite as prominent as he had once thought. He had believed that every one of his men knew his story, but it appears that his legacy had faded over the years and the newest men in the ranks were oblivious to the fact that their captain was a war hero.

"Ever heard of the Battle of Sefield?" Alvar's eyes grew wide and he nodded. "Eighth battalion, second lieutenant."

"But I heard –"

"That there were no survivors," the Captain interrupted. "That seems to be the way it's known. People always like a story where there were no survivors. Sounds better than _just a few_ survivors, after all."

Fifteen years ago, a kingdom to the south of Arendelle called Caed was under threat of invasion by an army from the east by the name of Breisa. Caed was a close ally with Arendelle at the time and King Adgar agreed to send a unit of three hundred troops to help bolster defenses around the border and try to scare off the Breisans.

The king hadn't expected the troops he sent to even see combat, but the Breisans were more ambitious than anyone had expected. They attacked the eastern border at a city called Sefield while the Arendelle military was there. There were hundreds of casualties on both sides and nearly every Arendelle soldier was killed in combat. A long political battle erupted in Arendelle over the whole thing; it had appeared as if the soldiers were simply sent to their slaughter. However, Caed backed Agdar's decision - their kingdom was successfully spared from a full invasion due to Arendelle's sacrifice.

The Captain continued, "It's true, we were almost all wiped out. But not me. No, I made it back to Arendelle, I was given all sorts of medals and honors, and I was placed in the royal guard. Here I've been ever since, and that's why it's no surprise that damn near everyone thinks nobody survived the Battle of Sefield."

"That's amazing, sir! You must be one hell of a warrior."

Desmond scoffed. "That's the shit of it, recruit. I didn't survive because I was the best fighter. A good fighter, yes, but certainly not the best. I didn't survive for being a coward, either. I survived from pure dumb luck, that's all there is to it." He leaned forward on the stone wall of the watchtower, staring off as he remembered the most horrifying hours of his life. Alvar simply stood and stared at the man, not sure if he should comfort him or not.

Desmond needed no comforting. In fact, he was glad to be able to say what came next. "There was a kid, a Breisian, probably no older than you. He caught me during the battle winded and out of position. Had a crossbow bolt pointed right at my chest – and he didn't take the shot. Looked right into my eyes and didn't pull the trigger. Couldn't bring himself to do it, I guess. He was killed for it, of course. Not by me, although I probably would've done it if given the opportunity. My commander saw him and buried a knife in the back of his neck – and that was it. My life was spared, and his was taken."

The captain spoke so casually, as if he had told that story a million times. The truth was he rarely talked about it at all. It was simply something that he had lived with for a long time now and it seemed easy enough to let out, much to the bafflement of the young Alvar, who was now shifting uncomfortably and fidgeting with his uniform.

"Soon after that, I was given this-" he lifted up his uniform and revealed a long scar running along his entire side, from his left armpit to the middle of his lower back. "I passed out from blood loss and woke up at a Caedian infirmary. Dumb luck. Nothing more."

Both guards remained silent for a moment, the captain running a hand through his red hair and peering out over the fjord. The somber air was finally broken when the watchtower doors slammed open and a third guard appeared, slightly out of breath.

"Captain… there you are…" he breathed.

Desmond spun on his heel and instantly transformed back to his normal, commanding self. "What is it?"

"I was watching the harbor… and I saw a something approaching from the southwest… I thought you ought to take a look," the guard stated, handing over his telescope.

Desmond took the tool and brought it to his eye, scouring the water. There were many ships in the water, some fishing boats and trade ships going about their daily business. It took a moment, but the captain eventually spotted what the other guard must have seen.

A medium sized sailboat was approaching the docks, its solid white sail visible just past the horizon. There were no markings or sigils indicating who the ship was associated with and, curiously, it appeared unmanned. Desmond squinted, trying his best to scan the deck and make out who was on board, but there was nobody in sight. It was either being manned by a ghost, or it had been deserted.

"At first I thought it was an abandoned fishing boat," explained the guard. "But it looks like no fishing boat I've ever seen from Arendelle, and the fact that it doesn't have a flag is suspicious. It doesn't look big enough to be a cargo ship, and notice how torn up it looks?"

"It certainly is strange. There's nothing in that direction for thousands of kilometers," Desmond observed. Most days, he wouldn't have put too much thought into an unmarked ship in the waters of the fjord, but today, there was something in the air that told him it was nothing ordinary. The direction of the wind was putting the mysterious ship straight on course for the docks. By a quick estimate, Desmond predicted it would be at the city in the next thirty minutes.

"You two come with me."

The guards made their way down from the watchtower and began to exit the castle through the front hall. Just as Desmond opened the door, Kai came running from the eastern hallway. "Captain Holdt! Her Majesty wishes to speak with you."

"She can wait, Kai, come with us," the captain demanded. By the time Kai could process the request, the guards were already out the door and heading towards the harbor. He huffed, but obediently followed.

By the time the full body of water entered the group's view, the sailboat had closed the distance to the city by half. By now, it was off-course from the docks and was heading too far north, straight towards a rocky shore near the foundation of the castle.

The guards, along with Kai, were forced to double back in an effort to intercept the boat. Unfortunately, by the time they made it to the landing site, it had already bottomed out and capsized on the harsh rocks, completely destroying the mast and sail and putting permanent damage on the rest of the vessel.

Desmond led the group as they finally made it close enough to the boat to investigate. There didn't seem to be any cargo on board, but as the group started to wade through the water to look for any signs of people, they spotted the figure of a man floating face-up near the destroyed deck.

"Is that…?" Alvar asked when the man's face came into clear view.

"It couldn't be…" gasped Kai.

"Well I'll be damned," the captain breathed as he squatted near the man in the shallow water.

"Kai, whatever the queen wanted to speak to me about, tell her we have a bigger issue on our hands. Aaron Sinclair just washed up at our feet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we've reached the end of what I have so far.
> 
> If you've made it this far, you rock! I will be posting the next chapter just as soon as I get it done! If you like this story post comments, thoughts, or just a kudos will do, but let me know how I'm doing, I'd really appreciate it!


	15. Firelight

Night had fallen by the time Kip Hewart’s ship arrived at the harbor of Calidae, the docks only illuminated by the soft red glow of torches in the distance. The tradesman sighed, watching the city grow steadily larger from his viewpoint at the bow of his vessel. This particular voyage home had taken longer than expected and Kip and his men wouldn’t be done unloading the cargo from today’s haul until the deepest, darkest hours of the night, meaning he wouldn’t be able to see his wife and daughter until tomorrow.

Casting the thought aside, Kip felt like something was different about tonight. It didn’t take long for him to realize something was wrong. Even at this hour, there were usually at least a few fishermen and other boats performing last minute checkups and preparations for the next day.

Tonight, the docks were deserted - and eerily quiet.

A misplaced wave of heat washed over the tradesman from the direction of the pier. Its warmth was quickly replaced by a chill when Kip spotted a telltale pair of golden eyes watching his ship from the docks.

“It’s Lord Alexander!” someone on the ship cried, confirming what Kip had hoped was an illusion.

The entire crew stirred, stealing glances at the docks in panicked disbelief. What could the Fire Lord of Astor possibly be doing at the harbor at this hour?

“Calm yourselves,” Kip announced, grabbing the attention of the crew. “We have nothing to hide, nothing to fear. Prepare to unload at the docks just like normal. I’ll do the talking.”

The men seemed hardly reassured but did as their captain said and docked the ship, anchoring her and lowering the gangway so they could prepare to haul the cargo out for the following day’s pickup.

Alexander stood silently and watched the process, his hands folded regally behind his back. He was wearing nothing but a simple black robe and dark leather gloves, his hair falling loosely to his shoulders and casting a dark shadow over his face. He certainly didn’t look like he had any royal business to attend to; if the men on the ship didn’t know any better, they would assume he was just a random bystander.

Kip was the first to disembark, hesitantly taking his place in front of the man he had only ever heard tales of and hoped he would never see in person. He bowed deeply and stared at Alexander’s boots.

“Good evening, Milord.”

That was all he could think to say. This was the first time the tradesman had ever spoken to royalty, much less a psychotic flame-wielding dictator, and he wasn’t sure what exactly was appropriate and what was not. Unwilling to ask a question, he just kept his head down and waited for an explanation. None was forthcoming, however. Alexander merely ignored the captain and stomped up the wooden ramp to the deck of the cargo ship as if he owned it.

The crew immediately scattered to the edges of the ship. Some pretended to be doing some meaningless task while others just stared at the Fire Lord and cowered in fear. Alexander didn’t seem fazed by their reaction. Surely it was exactly what he expected.

 Kip followed the Highborn as he made his way across the deck of the massive, triple-masted vessel. Alexander’s golden eyes were darting around, scanning each and every crate and barrel in sight. He paused abruptly and addressed Kip for the first time, not bothering to look at him.

“This ship is carrying commodities from the Northern Kingdoms?” he asked.

“Y-yes, milord.”

“What do you bring from the Kingdom of Arendelle?”

Kip had to think for a moment, a little surprised. “Barley, wool, some wine, Icebloom…”

Alexander held up a hand, interrupting Kip. “Bring them to me,” he said, not specifying what exactly he wanted brought.

Kip chose not to ask, barking at his nearest two crew members to bring all the commodities they could find from Arendelle. They complied, disappearing into the innards of the ship while Alexander simply stood at the side of the ship watching the waves gently roll into the wood of the vessel with a clenched jaw. He looked like he was thinking deeply about something and, to Kip’s dismay, he didn’t seem pleased about whatever it was.

 The few minutes it took for the crew members to return seemed like the longest minutes of the tradesman’s life. When they finally did return, they were lugging several crates with them labeled with their respective contents – just like Kip had said, there was barely, wool, and a barrel of wine. The last thing they brought was a large vase filled halfway with water and crammed with a bouquet of beautiful blue flowers. Alexander inspected each thing one by one while Kip watched, his hands awkwardly folded in front of him.

The Highborn plucked one of the flowers from the vase and twirled it by the stem between two fingers. “A pretty flower. What is it called again?”

“I-icebloom, milord. A rather common flower from Arendelle. It is, indeed, quite p-pretty,” stammered Kip.

“Icebloom,” the dictator repeated, bringing the petals close to his face as if to get a better look.

With no warning, he let out a scoff followed by a round of booming laughter. The noise surprised Kip so much that he actually staggered backwards before he could process what was happening. Some of the crewmembers looked around at each other in downright confusion. The Fire Lord was not only on their ship, but he was holding a tiny flower and cackling like he had just heard a hilarious joke while drunk at a tavern.

Kip didn’t know what to do besides force a chuckle himself. Finally, Alexander recovered from his outburst and spoke again. “What, might I ask, do the people of Astor need with flowers? Hm?”

Kip hadn’t been expecting the question. He cleared his throat and straightened his back. “Oh, um… decoration, mostly, I’d imagine. Perhaps the petals are ground up to make a blue shade of paint? I admit I don’t um… use… Icebloom myself, milord.”

“Decoration. Of course. And paint. Quite the useful little plant,” Alexander drawled looking at the flower with squinted eyes. Kip couldn’t tell if it was sarcasm. Either way, he was utterly confused. What about this silly little flower had the Fire Lord so intrigued?

There was a moment of tense silence as Kip didn’t know how to respond. The crew was failing to act normal, most of them watching Alexander from afar or hiding in the lower decks of the ship. None of them were doing any actual work, no longer concerned with getting home at a reasonable hour.

At last, resolution came as Alexander broke from his apparent daydream and placed the flower delicately into its vase atop a crate at his feet and began to walk back across the deck. Kip followed, feeling somewhat relieved but he couldn’t help but try to find some answers before Alexander left.

“Is there anything wrong, milord? Anything you… need from us? F-from me?” he asked.

Alexander pulled off his gloves as he made his way to the gangway and disembarked from the ship, standing on the dock once again. Kip remained on the deck, glad to put some distance between him and the dictator.

“Yes, actually, there is one thing I need from you,” Alexander said, turning and looking up at the man on the ship.

Kip stood at attention. “Anything, milord.”

“When you see the Snow Queen in hell… tell her I say hi.”

Kip didn’t even have time to react before all he could see was orange and red.

The people of Calidae say you could see the sails of the cargo ship burning from anywhere in the entire city. They burned and burned, well into the night, the orange flames reaching up to the starry sky causing a reflection in the water that seemed to delve down into the depths of the Earth. Some said it looked like Hell had come to take over the harbor that night, and in a way, it had.

Kip Hewart and his crew never made it back to their families that night.

When the ship finally sunk to its everlasting grave, the only remains were the ashes of the innocent men that were killed - and a few petals of the icebloom that had somehow escaped incineration, floating almost gracefully out to sea as if trying to return to their home in Arendelle.

They never quite made it.

* * *

 

 

In the very heart of the central trade district of Calidae there was a particularly well-kept tavern named the Sundown. Its windows were clean, the front walkway was always swept, and the roof was in better condition than any of the surrounding buildings, making it a noticeably welcoming place to go for a pint or bowl of stew.

The Sundown was appropriately named for its popularity after the last bit of light fell beyond the horizon; once evening came, the bar was the most lively place in the entire city. It was the closest thing to a beacon of hope, a tiny shimmer of happiness in an otherwise solemn town, the one place where people forgot their troubles and enjoyed a glass of good feelings with their fellow man.

Another Saturday night drew to a late close at the Sundown as drunken friends and lovers clung to each other and old, hardened men finished their last shots before heading home to their resentful wives. Last call came and went and the bartender made his rounds before politely herding out the stragglers that clung to the bar like a drowning man to a life-vest.

The owner and primary bartender was a tall, strong-armed and dark-skinned man that towered over most, so it wasn’t a difficult task for him. He rarely had to resort to violence to keep the inebriated masses in check. Despite his kind, handsome features, he looked like the kind of man that it would be a mistake to scuffle with and even the most drunk, belligerent fools usually bended to his will when they were asked to leave.

When at last everyone was out the door, only two remained at the Sundown; the bartender and a cloaked, hooded figure perched on the last stool of the bar sitting slumped over and holding a glass of straight whiskey loosely in one hand. This mysterious person had been there for hours now, sitting in contemplative silence and downing glass after glass, muttering only one simple word the entire night.

“Another.”

The bartender locked the door and eyed the hooded figure from the side before returning to his place behind the counter. “You know, just because you’re a princess, doesn’t mean you get to be rude _all_ the time,” he said with a slight smirk.

“Don’t start with me, Vash,” Sophie said, pulling off her hood and discarding the scarf that had been veiling her face. “I can get all the free alcohol I want in the palace, but I choose to spend money here. You can at least pretend to be grateful,” she said with a lazy wave of her hand. There was no malice behind her voice, despite the castigation.

“Tell you what, Black Swan – “ Vash reached into a cabinet behind him and pulled out a special bottle of bourbon he kept hidden away for special occasions. He brought out two glasses and began filling them both. “ - this one’s on me.”

Sophie accepted the drink and raised it slightly as a “thank you” before downing the entire thing in one go. Vash did the same, although not quite as easily. He realized that Sophie must be fairly drunk at this point.

“What’s going on, Sophie? As much as I’d like to believe you came here tonight just to see me, I know that’s not the case.”

Sophie felt a bit guilty. He was right. “You must’ve noticed by now…”

“My last shipment of icebloom never came. I’m guessing that has something to do with the giant fire that happened the other night on the harbor, and I’m guessing _that_ had something to do with your uncle.”

Sophie was actually impressed with the accurate assessment, although she didn’t say so. “Nothing gets past you, does it? I’m not entirely sure what to do. No merchants in their right minds are going back to the Northern Kingdoms any time soon and the Disease is only getting worse.”

“Mm. I had a group of teenagers come in yesterday asking for icebloom tea and I had to turn them away. Apparently they were from Mantri, that town all the way near the south border. It broke my heart, but there was nothing I could do. What is your uncle thinking? Doesn’t he know that his people are dying?”

“Asking me to explain the actions of my uncle is like asking a beetle why the sky is blue, Vash. That being said, I’m worried about you. My uncle clearly doesn’t like the fact that we’ve been secretly spreading a cure. If he somehow finds out you’re involved, your severed head will probably be left by my door one morning. That wouldn’t be fun to wake up to.”

“Me? _You’re_ worried about _me_?” Vash chuckled, a deep, reverberating noise. “I’m not the one living with that psychopath. Worry about yourself, my _lady.”_

Sophie scowled. She hated when he called her that. “I can’t risk it. If I find out the Sundown has been burned to the ground, I’ll never forgive myself. Just lay low for a while, will you?”

Vash shook his head stubbornly. “I want to help you, any way I can. I’ve been with you ever since I came to Astor, ever since I saw you in my bar all those years ago. I’m not going to just turn away. We can find a way to get icebloom, we can find another cure, _something.”_

Sophie hesitated for a moment, staring at her empty glass. “There’s something you need to know,” she said. Vash didn’t like her tone. “Alexander is planning on going to war with Arendelle.”

“What!?” Vash stood upright and sprawled his enormous hands out on the counter. “When…how…?”

“It doesn’t concern you, but he’s has been siphoning money from another kingdom and building up an army for a while now. Arendelle is our enemy and things are going to be worse than ever.” Sophie took off her glasses and let her forehead fall into her palm. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. “Not to mention my brother is gone and… my father has fallen ill.”

Vash was left speechless. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong with ‘King’ Harold. Sophie’s face said it all. It appeared even royalty was not immune to the reaches of the Disease that had been on the rise in Astor for the last few months.

In just a few sentences, Vash had been given so much information that he couldn’t even start to process it all. He suddenly understood where the princess was coming from. Everything seemed to have gone wrong all at once. Utterly unable to comfort Sophie and feeling hopeless himself, Vash poured himself a second drink and tossed it down his throat.

“Wait, what do you mean Aaron’s ‘gone?’” asked the barkeep.

“Gone. Away. No longer here. Out of the picture.”

“Well, where is he?”

“Mmm… probably with the Snow Queen by now. Or dead. He could be dead. I can’t say for sure.”

Vash didn’t bother trying to get more information than that. Without Aaron, everything would be that much harder.

“I need to get back. Please, stay safe Vash,” Sophie said as she pulled her disguise back on and stood up. When she reached the door, she felt a hand engulf hers and she froze. Almost any other man would be met with a slap to the face for such a gesture, but Sophie let Vash clasp his hand with hers.

“Do right by your father, Sophie. I’ll be right here if you ever need me.”

“My hero,” Sophie joked. “Just don’t do anything stupid, you big oaf. I need you around.”

Vash smiled, and then she was gone, melting into the shadows of the sleeping city, letting her buzz calm her as she made her way up the cobbled street towards the home that she hated.

Beggars lined the streets outside the Sundown, weakly holding up their empty bowls and praying that money would somehow find its way into it. Not for the first time, Sophie tossed a gold coin into an old man’s hat as she passed by. That would surely feed him for at least a week, or so she hoped. He could only manage a surprised wheeze in response.

Sophie pulled her hood tighter to hide her face, feeling eyes fall on her. God only knows what would happen if someone recognized her on the streets in the middle of the night. She would either be swarmed with admirers or stabbed in the back, neither of which sounded very appealing.

The Sundown often attracted a host of homeless street-wanderers on nights like tonight. Vash had made it somewhat of a tradition to hand out any leftover food from the week that he couldn’t sell. It was just another reason the tavern was so popular. Tonight, however, it seems that they were out of luck. Vash never reappeared after Sophie made her exit.

The princess found herself thinking about the first time she had met the barkeep. When she was a teenager, Sophie had made it a habit to disguise herself and sneak off into town and drink at bars just like an average citizen. She rarely spoke to people for fear of revealing herself, but she just enjoyed being around her people. She loved watching them interact, being immersed in the culture of the city, and simply pretending to be normal. Normalcy was something that she didn’t get to experience often.

Vash had quickly stood out to the princess. Not because he was the first dark-skinned man she’d ever come across in Astor, although that was certainly a rarity – foreigners weren’t exactly lined up at Astor’s border trying to get in.

No, the thing that stood out the most to Sophie was his unwavering kindness and concern, even for strangers. He made conversation with anyone and everyone, regardless of age, gender, or status – he simply liked being liked, and that was something Sophie admired.

Eventually she struck up a conversation with him. Vash didn’t know who Sophie was at first, of course, but as she learned his story and saw the kind of man he was, one day she decided he was trustworthy, and she outed her identity to him. It was a decision she had never regretted.

Vash had come to Astor from a place far to the south, a place Sophie had never even heard of. Most try to escape Astor, as harsh a Kingdom as it is, but Vash had done the opposite, immigrating to the heart of it with the intention of opening a bar and giving the people here a place that they could come to forget their troubles. Nearly everyone spends their lifetime trying desperately to find happiness for themselves; Vash spent his trying desperately to give happiness to others.

Sophie was grateful to have someone like him around. Not only was he a good friend, but he also served as the princess’s eyes on the street. He kept her in the know about what was happening with the commoners of the city – how the economy was, what people needed, what their opinions were about the royal family, that kind of thing. When the Disease struck the kingdom full force, Vash became vital, not only to Sophie, but to everyone on the continent.

Sophie knew that icebloom tea could cure the Disease, but she needed a way to distribute the flower in a way that wouldn’t tip off Alexander. As far as he was concerned, the Disease was just another way to oppress his people, and especially considering the flower was unique to Arendelle, the only way to get icebloom tea to commoners was to do it under his nose.

Besides, if he knew a cure existed, he would certainly make sure that it wasn’t free. ‘Free’ wasn’t Alexander’s style.

So they set up a system. Sophie tweaked the trade-logs and created a timely shipment of icebloom from Arendelle every month. It was supposed to be delivered to floral shops and the like, but instead the entire thing was shipped to the Sundown.

 Vash perfected a way to keep a constant supply of icebloom tea and word spread about it being able to cure the Disease. For a while, it worked wonders, and the people of Astor were slowly fighting back against the spread of the deadly plague. Now, though, after Alexander’s rather overkill display of disapproval for incoming goods from Arendelle, the chances of the Disease coming back with a vengeance skyrocketed.

Thoughts of her people’s future dominated Sophie’s head as she approached the palace, letting the shadows engulf her and the silence guide her step. The palace was surrounded by an enormous circular stone wall that stood forty feet wide: the first obstacle.

Sophie snuck past the two guards on duty by the front gate and made her way to the special spot at the wall that opposed her room on the east side of the castle. It was too dark to see all the way over there as there was barely an torchlight from the main path, but Sophie knew the wall like the back of her hand and she felt along the rough surface until her hand found its way to a metal spike buried deep into the stone.

It had taken nearly a year to construct this makeshift ladder without anyone noticing. Sophie and Aaron had taken turns, almost every night, sneaking out here and hammering the spikes into the stone and filling the surrounding hole with packed mud. They kept going higher and higher until finally they were left with a solid ladder formed by the spikes on the east side that could easily be climbed to the top of the wall and back. As far as they knew, nobody had ever noticed it and it was their special way of sneaking in an out of the castle whenever they wanted.

It wasn’t that the twins _needed_ to sneak out, exactly. After all, they were the prince and princess and they could go where they pleased, when they pleased. The reason they snuck out was more of a precaution. The guards wouldn’t (and couldn’t) stop them from exiting the castle, but they might ask where they were going for safety reasons. And the twins left the castle at night a _lot,_ usually garbed in a dark cloak that screamed “I’m up to something.” There was always the threat of accidentally getting shot with a crossbow by a guard thinking they were an intruder, but more importantly, they figured eventually a guard might break and tell Alexander which would only raise more hell for them.

So, they snuck. And they were both good at sneaking. And they liked sneaking. Because besides all the practical reasons for doing it, it was simply more fun – and there were few things in this world that Aaron and Sophie Sinclair could do for fun.

Sophie pulled herself up the metal-spike-ladder and hoisted herself onto the wall with the dexterity of a cat, narrowly avoiding a patrolman as he passed by with a lit torch. She crouched low and silently crept to the watchtower with the stairs that led down to the courtyard. A minute later and she was standing on the patch of grass outside the castle where vines crept up the stone wall directly to a cracked window (of course, not coincidentally. She had had that plant grown there specifically years ago).

Another quick climb and she was inside the east hallway where her final destination was: her room.

Feeling accomplished, she turned the corner and nearly screamed when she saw a figure standing by her door. She instinctively jumped back behind the corner, but her stomach flipped when she realized the person in the hallway wasn’t a guard at all. It was much worse than that.

He was dressed in a dark blue vest with a golden pin on the right side and a pair of expensive black pants. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and he stood with his arms crossed and one leg up against the wall, waiting. His combed reddish-brown hair and groomed beard were unmistakable.

“What the hell are you doing here, Hans?” Sophie asked.

“Hey, hey, what’s with the hostility?” Hans said, unfolding his arms and leaning a shoulder against the wall. “I came to say ‘hi’ and you were gone. So I waited for you to make sure you were alright.”

“How sweet. I don’t know whether to laugh or throw up. I’m alright, so… Goodnight,” Sophie dead-panned and made an attempt to reach for her doorknob, but Hans stepped in the way.

“Look, it’s not my business where you go in your own kingdom at night. I get it. Your uncle might be concerned though. What’s with the disguise, anyway?”

Sophie pulled off her hood and scarf and adjusted her glasses so they sat properly on her nose. “It sounds like you’re threatening me. That’s not a path you want to go down. Why don’t you just get back to the Southern Isles where you belong?”

Hans chuckled. “I’ve got business with your uncle. Get used to it. When you’re funding an army for another kingdom, you get certain privileges. And your uncle promises that you and I will be getting along very well once Arendelle is out of the picture.”

Sophie shuttered at the implications of that. What exactly had Alexander promised?

“I have enough shit to deal with without you around, Hans. Out of the way.”

Hans ignored her and blocked the door with his body again. “You know, I hear your uncle had your brother’s leftover things fed to Efreet today. You should see his room, it’s completely empty. Where did your dear twin Aaron get off to, anyway?”

“…I don’t know where he is. My guess is he wanted to put as much distance between himself and your toxic aura as possible.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Hans asked, a little more directly. Sophie was nearly at her wit’s end, but she kept her cool.

Hans leaned a little closer, putting his face right up to Sophie’s. “I guess we’ll find out eventually, my friend,” he said. Then he reached his hand out, which was a fatal mistake. Sophie didn’t care what he was going to touch but before Hans had raised his wrist even above his belly button, his arm was twisted around his back and his cheek was pressed forcefully against the wall.

Sophie leaned forward and barked in Hans' ear. “You may be my uncle’s little piggybank, but listen well. I am not your _slave._ I am not your _partner._ And I am definitely not your _friend_. So back the hell off or you’ll be the next thing that gets fed to Efreet.”

She released him and before he could even turn around, she had opened her door and disappeared into the safety of her chambers.

Hans said no words, but the sound of his frustrated fist against the wall as he stomped away was probably the most satisfying thing Sophie had ever heard in her entire life.

 


	16. Reunion

“What is he thinking!?”

Elsa made her hundredth lap around her office as Anna watched dizzily from the sofa and pulled at her braids. “Just showing up, unannounced like this… I can’t believe him!”

It was mid-morning and the queen had barely slept a wink, too busy trying to piece together all the events of the past few days and come up with any sort of plan on how to move forward. So far, her only course of action had been to pace around the castle nearly pulling her hair out while her poor rosy-cheeked sister followed her around pretending to be useful.

“Elsa, calm down,” Anna coaxed. “I’m sure Aaron has an explanation. We just need to wait for him to wake up and ask what’s going on.”

“Anna, you don’t understand. He’s dangerous, we can’t just talk to him over tea and biscuits like old pals. I have half a mind to lock him in prison as soon as he’s conscious again.”

“What!? Why?” Anna gasped, sounding oddly offended at the prospect.  “Just because Aaron’s uncle may be Arendelle’s enemy doesn’t mean he is. Maybe he’s here to help.”

“I’d like to believe that, Anna, I really would,” Elsa sighed, sinking into the chair across from her sister and crossing her legs, putting a hand to her forehead in a dejected pose. “But that just can’t be the case.”

Anna frowned and folded her arms across her chest. The queen was thinking hard, head down and eyes sullen, and Anna knew that there was a memory racing through her mind.

She stood and sat down across from Elsa, leaning close. “There’s something you aren’t telling me, isn’t there? About Aaron, about why the twins left Arendelle after their visit all that time ago?”

Elsa looked up at Anna and then the window. Even after all that time, the queen had never spoken to anyone about what had happened that night on the rooftop with Aaron and Sophie. Frankly, she never thought she would have to, but it seemed that everywhere she looked, the Sinclair family was there again, bringing back painful memories, like an itch that moves every time it’s scratched. It was finally time to lay everything out in the open.

“Yes,” Elsa said. “I’m sorry I never told you. I never had any reason to before… and I guess I figured it didn’t matter anymore, I thought it was all over. What do you remember about Sophie and Aaron’s last night at the castle?”

Anna thought for moment. “Hmm… Well, you and Aaron went off on a tour around the castle. I left you two alone because… well, you know.” Elsa turned just the slightest bit red, remembering the excitement she felt about being alone with Aaron for the night. Anna continued, “Oh, right – I went off with Sophie instead. She was teaching me how to hold a sword that night in the barracks, I remember, and then she stepped out and said she’d be right back. Something was bugging her, I could tell, but I didn’t think much of it. And then… she just never came back. The next morning, both the twins were gone and I never found out what happened.”

Elsa nodded, looking a bit guilty. “That’s because she came to the roof of the north tower where I was with Aaron… and tried to kill me.”

Elsa paused, but Anna didn’t give the startled gasp she was expecting. Instead, the redhead looked confused, scrunching her face up like she had just eaten a bad piece of fruit. “She tried to what you?”

“She tried to murder me!” Anna narrowed her eyes skeptically, and Elsa explained. “She saw my powers. Aaron had already known about them, that’s why I asked him to stay in the castle in the first place. When Sophie spied on us and saw me creating snow, she snuck up and put a knife to my throat. She started talking about how I was a Highborn, how Aaron should have killed me already…” Elsa twisted her hands together. “I was so scared, I didn’t know what was happening… but now it all makes sense… the Sinclairs have wanted me dead before they even knew who I was!”

Anna listened intently, never changing her expression. Her stoicism in response to her sister’s near death was a little unnerving, Elsa thought, but Anna looked like she was thinking hard, trying to make sense of it all.

“I get it now…” Anna said. “Aaron already knew about your magic. But I’m confused, she tried to kill you, but she didn’t. What stopped her?”

Elsa pondered for a moment. “Well… Aaron did. He said something about how I was different and suggested they just leave and keep everything a secret, which Sophie miraculously agreed to. I guess… he saved my life…”

Saying it out loud felt strange, but Elsa had never really thought about the fact that without Aaron, she wouldn’t be alive right now. Elsa had been so caught up on being angry and hurt by what happened that she never stopped to think about the fact that Sophie – no, _both_ the twins – had shown her mercy. They had kept her secret up until the Great Freeze at her coronation, after all.

Anna put a reassuring hand on Elsa’s knee. “See? He can’t be all bad. We have to at least try to trust him, for now. There’s no way he came here on a dinky little boat to try and kill you. He must be here to help.”

Elsa took a deep breath, feeling a little better about the situation. Yet somehow, it didn’t make her less nervous about speaking to Aaron when he awoke. What would she even say?

Elsa had changed so much since she had met him two years ago. She remembered that weak little princess that could barely work up the courage to create a sprinkle of snow. The princess that cowered at even the thought of anyone seeing her magic. Now, she was an all-powerful Queen, adored by her people and feared by all others, a fully realized woman with all the confidence in the world – except when it came to Aaron, apparently.

“Thanks, Anna. You’re right. I’ll give him a chance. But if he even hints at having some kind of agenda, or siding with his uncle, I won’t hesitate to throw him in prison.”

Anna nodded and gave her sister a mission-accomplished grin. “Or, you could just freeze his handsome, pretty-boy face off,” she giggled, attempting to get a rise from Elsa. The queen managed to only look mildly amused.

“Careful who you call handsome. Aren’t you engaged?” Elsa teased, and Anna just smirked.

There was a knock at the door and Kristoff suddenly barged in without waiting for a response as if he had been summoned by the comment. He was slightly out of breath and looked a little embarrassed when the sisters both glared at him from the sofa.

“Speaking of…” Anna said.

 “Hey, Elsa – erm, sorry to interrupt, but that prince guy just woke up in the infirmary and they told me to come get you right away,” the mountain man said, and the sisters glanced at each other briefly before standing up to follow Kristoff out of the office.

The trio headed downstairs towards the infirmary where the Astor prince had been recovering for the past twenty-four hours since Captain Holdt had carried him there from the water. The castle’s physician had said he was extremely dehydrated and malnourished, but was going to be alright, news that Elsa wasn’t sure whether or not to be happy about at the time. Holdt had said Aaron was really out of it when he found him and kept mumbling about some book he had never heard of.

On the captain’s orders, the guards searched the rubble for anything Aaron might have brought with him and only managed to find a small, beaten-down metal chest that they couldn’t open without a key. Other than that, Aaron had nothing.

As Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff walked briskly down the steps and across the front hall to the east wing, Kristoff spoke up. “So what were you guys talking about anyway? And what’s with this crazy prince guy? I always feel so out of the loop around here.”

Anna grabbed her fiance’s hand, falling into step with him, and hit him lightly in the chest. “I already told you about Aaron and his kingdom, dummy. Don’t you pay attention to anything I say?”

“All you told me is that he’s from Astor and his uncle wants to kill Elsa. I get the feeling there’s a little more to the story than that. I mean, the guy nearly died sailing here and he’s completely empty-handed. Doesn’t exactly sound like an evil mastermind to me… If he’s the bad guy, I’d say we’re in pretty good shape. Right, Elsa?”

The queen didn’t respond, too busy mentally preparing herself for the encounter she was about to have. There was a strange excitement in it that she couldn’t explain, like the feeling you get right before you find out the answer to a riddle you couldn’t quite solve. For some reason, as they opened the doors to the infirmary, Elsa found herself wishing she had changed out of the old, plain-blue dress and slippers she was wearing and done her hair rather than letting it fall lazily over one shoulder.

The infirmary was a seldom-used extension of the castle that consisted of only a few rooms that lined a single hallway. It was almost always deserted, especially considering the royal guard hadn’t seen real combat in about a decade. Even Elsa hadn’t been here herself since she had gotten the stomach flu as a kid – the faint smell of rubbing alcohol that hung in the air brought back the unpleasant memory.

A mousy looking nurse with a pair of round glasses scurried over and bowed as soon as the group arrived. “Your Majesties! The prince is this way. He’s been asking for you,” she said.

The nurse showed them to the room where Aaron was resting and then shuffled away quietly when Elsa dismissed her. The door was closed and Elsa just stood there staring at it for a few seconds, clenching and unclenching her fist. Anna noticed her hesitation and said, “Maybe you should talk to him alone first, Elsa. Kristoff and I can wait outside.”

“No,” Elsa spouted. “No, I… I’d rather you come with me. Anything he has to say to me, he can say to the two of you.” With that, she pushed the door open.

Elsa wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting when she went inside, but it wasn’t at all the sight in front of her. The room was nothing but a stone-walled cell with a window, a bed, and a nightstand, the floor a bit dusty from misuse and the lighting rather dim. Aaron was sitting up at the head of the bed and was in the middle of devouring an enormous piece of bread, spilling crumbs all over the sheets and into the long, unkempt beard that had taken over the bottom half of his face.

 It had only been two years since Elsa had last seen Aaron, but he appeared to have aged six, his eyes sunken and his skin lined with stress. His hair was long and oily, coming down past his eyes and he must have weighed at least twenty pounds less than before. He almost looked like a homeless man who had somehow snuck his way into the castle and had just been caught stealing food mid-bite, wide-eyed and embarrassed. Despite his derelict appearance, he lit up at the sight of Elsa and she could see tell from the twinkle in his green eyes he was the same old charming prince he always was.

He swallowed the humongous bite of bread abruptly and almost choked. “Elsa! You look… different,” he said, and his eyes flickered towards Anna who was giving him a suggestive look. “I-it’s a good different. You look well. And Anna, it’s great to see you. I would get up, but I’m still a little…”

“No, no! It’s okay,” Anna said, stepping past Elsa and leaning down to hug Aaron who awkwardly hugged her back from his sitting position, blushing underneath his newly grown facial hair. “It’s good to see you, too.”

Aaron looked noticeably relieved at the friendly greeting, but Elsa still hung back reluctantly. “Hi, Aaron,” she managed, and he was appeased for the moment.

The prince finally looked to Kristoff, who was standing by the door and trying not to look grumpy. “And you must be that strong fellow that carried me in from where I crashed. I owe you a thank-you,” Aaron said to him.

“Me? Uhh, no, you got the wrong guy, but I’ll be sure to pass the message to Captain Holdt,” Kristoff replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Aaron, this is my fiancé, Baron Kristoff Bjorgman,” Anna chimed in, coming to stand by the blonde man.

“I see. A pleasure to meet you, Baron Bjorgman,” Aaron said, and Kristoff resisted rolling his eyes.

“Great, now that we’ve all met, I think you’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Aaron,” Elsa stated, turning the mood of the room instantly.

Aaron frowned, turning his attention back to his bread. “Right. I had a feeling you’d want to get straight to the point. I will explain, of course, but first, I need to open my chest, and I’m afraid I must have lost the key in the crash,” he said, pointing out the metal chest sitting in the corner of the room that the others had failed to notice at first. It looked banged up but firmly intact, although still a little wet.

“And what’s in it that’s so important?” Elsa asked.

“You know, just a few odds and ends. Some food, a compass, my dagger… Oh, and a very interesting book about the very nature of your existence, Elsa. It’s called _A History of Royal Magic_ by Agatha Paddik.”

Elsa raised an eyebrow, trying to hide how intrigued she was just form hearing the title. “You say you lost the key?” she asked, walking over to the chest to inspect it. It was about three feet wide and two feet high and was held closed by a sturdy metal handlock attached to the front with a rather large keyhole.

Aaron nodded. “I’m afraid without it, that chest is nearly impenetrable. It will take hours to –“

Before he could finish his sentence, Elsa flicked a wrist, casting a chill that crept over the lock and caused it to crackle over with magical ice. As soon as it was encased in cold, she clenched her fist and shattered the ice, causing the entire lock to be obliterated as little pieces of frozen metal scattered across the dusty floor. Before Aaron could protest, Elsa had the chest open and was digging through its contents.

“Or, you know, that could also… work. You really are the Snow Queen now, aren’t you?” Aaron said.

The first thing Elsa noticed in the chest was a beautiful sheethed knife the size of her forearm with a black handle imbued with a red jewel and the flame symbol of Astor decorating the hilt. She picked it up carefully and ran a hand across the material.

“My dagger, Belle,” Aaron pointed out.

“Your dagger’s name is Belle?” Anna asked, peaking over Elsa’s shoulder. Kristoff had to stifle a giggle.

Aaron shrugged and said, “What? I let Sophie name it when we were twelve. I guess it looked pretty, or something.”

Placing the dagger gently on the ground, Elsa rummaged through some scrolls and various other objects until she saw the only book in the chest. It was a rather large tome with a purple cover and golden script. Elsa marveled at what she was holding in her hands: _A History of Royal Magic._ A history of the Highborn.

She turned back to Aaron and plopped the book on his lap. “There. Now, how about telling us why you’re here,” she said, trying to sound less demanding and more curious.

Aaron just frowned and continued nibbling at his bread.

“Whoever bakes this bread deserves a raise, you know,” he said. “It really is better than anything I’ve had in Astor. Oh, and that nurse with the glasses is just the kindest woman. Did you know she likes to crochet in her spare time?”

Elsa folded her arms. “Aaron…” she said, realizing that the prince probably didn’t need to open the chest before talking at all. He was stalling. For what reason, Elsa could only guess.

The prince sighed. “Fine, fine. Sorry for trying to have a moment before we get to the impending doom portion of the conversation.”

“Impending doom?” Anna asked.

“Oh, it’s just an expression. Sort of. I’m assuming you read my letter, Elsa?”

Elsa rubbed her arm sheepishly. “Er, well… I didn’t get to that until… recently.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “ _How_ recently?” he asked.

Three sets of eyes drilled into Elsa as she chose her next words. “I read it yesterday. But I already know about Alexander and his rule over Astor. Anna and I spoke with one of your former royal guards not long ago about the fire lord’s powers and all the horrible things he’s done. I can’t believe you lied to us about who you were, you lied about everything!”

Aaron didn’t say anything for a moment, staring out the window at the less-than-impressive view of the barracks courtyard. “We lie to the world, Elsa. We have no choice. It’s good that you already know, though, that saves me from having to explain _everything_. Still, this is going to be harder than I thought,” he finally said.

“ _What’s_ going to be harder than you thought, exactly?” Elsa asked, putting her hands on her hips.

Aaron just looked at her for a second as he finished his chunk of bread. “Astor will be invading in two month’s time.”

“Two months!?” Anna and Elsa yelled in unison.

“Whoa,” was all Kristoff could manage.

“Yes. Two months,” Aaron stated, sounding much too calm and collected for someone delivering such awful news. “And I’m talking about a full-scale attack. My uncle’s military is more powerful now than I’ve ever seen it. He’s got some kind of agreement with a certain prince from the Southern Isles who has been funneling him money.”

Anna and Elsa met eyes as soon as they heard the words ‘Southern Isles.’

“Hans,” Anna hissed as if the very mention of his name caused her mouth to burn.

“Yes, the Westerguard son, that’s the one,” Aaron confirmed. “You… know him?”

Elsa responded, “You could say we know him too well. He was the cause of everything that went wrong during the Great Freeze. He was going to marry Anna and kill me to take the throne. But how could he possibly have money to give away, wasn’t he declared a criminal by his father after he returned home?” she asked, directing her question to Anna who merely shrugged.

Aaron rubbed his beard, looking intrigued. “My knowledge of the Great Freeze is limited, but I did know that Hans was a criminal. I was curious myself about how he was getting all that money. So, about six months ago, I visited the Southern Isles under the pretense of signing a trade agreement to find out more about my uncle’s new benefactor. I knew there was something fishy about him. Apparently, Hans has created this sort of ‘Penitence Prince’ outlook for himself in his home kingdom, saying he’s trying to change his ways and become a better person.”

Anna scoffed and rolled her eyes, but let Aaron continue. “I never found out what exactly he had done, but it didn’t seem to hurt his popularity among the people of the Southern Isles. The guy is adored by everyone, and the royal family seems to have completely turned a blind eye to his past crimes. He just had to put on that false humility guise and _bam_ – people fall under his spell, just like that.”

“That’s Hans for you,” Elsa said. “He’s a master manipulator. Somehow I’m not surprised he’s got his freedom.”

“He’s also a liar. He has some kind of charity fund that he claims is going towards helping the poor all across the Northern Kingdoms, but really, he’s been forging documents and sending all of the money to Astor. I suppose if he has a vendetta against you, Elsa, then it all makes sense. He’s working with Alexander to attack Arendelle,” Aaron concluded.

Kristoff jumped in, sounding a little annoyed. “If you knew Hans was doing that, why didn’t you tell anyone in the Southern Isles? If he gets caught, he won’t be able to send money to your uncle.”

Aaron shook his head. “He’d be able to get me thrown in prison if I publicly accused him, not to mention my uncle would know it was me. And I didn’t have enough evidence to tip King Berthold off anonymously. Hans is smart, he has everything meticulously in place to keep up the ruse. The only reason I know is because I’ve seen him in Astor, meeting with my uncle. He’s also taken a strange liking to my sister…”

Anna stamped her foot and fumed. “Ugh, he’s such a creep! If I ever see his ugly, side-burned, smug little face again, I swear to GOD –“

Kristoff grabbed Anna by the shoulders. “Alright, warrior-princess, save it for later.” Then he turned back to Aaron. “Speaking of your sister, I guess I’ll be the one to ask the big question: Where is she? I mean, why are you here and she’s not? I’ve never met her, but I got the impression you two were, ya know… partners in crime?”

Aaron put his head back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling. “I tried to convince her to come with me…”

“No,” Anna breathed. “Don’t tell me she’s actually on your uncle’s side!”

“Make no mistake, Fi is no friend of our uncle. But she is loyal to her people. She will always be on Astor’s side, and she saw coming here as a desertion of our kingdom. She couldn’t bring herself to leave our father alone with Alexander. She couldn’t bring herself to leave her people to suffer. I tried to explain that by helping you, I _am_ helping our people, but she just doesn’t see it that way. I couldn’t convince her.”

Elsa frowned, a genuine sadness washing over her. She had secretly hoped that Princess Sophie would be with Aaron, at least in spirit. She wanted to believe in the good in the princess that she had seen during her time in Arendelle, but apparently it was not there.

 “So next time we see her, she will be our enemy,” Elsa concluded, and the others silently agreed, downtrodden. Anna looked especially hurt by the news, eyes wet with tears, but she didn’t protest. Sophie was simply out of her reach.

After a moment, Aaron said, “My people are sick, you know. There’s a disease spreading through the kingdom, killing thousands every month, and the only sure-fire remedy we know of is the icebloom flower.”

“That’s terrible! Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Elsa. “We could’ve made sure your people got all of the icebloom they needed. It’s not exactly in short supply here. But now I guess it’s too late…”

“That’s actually ultimately the reason I’m here,” Aaron said. “My uncle knew about the icebloom coming from Arendelle and started intercepting the shipments. When I found that out, I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. That’s what caused me to speak out against Alexander. He… didn’t take it so well, as I expected. I was banished from my own castle. It was only a matter of time before he deemed me a traitor and killed me. So, with Fi’s help, I grabbed what I could and left, hopping on the first ship I could find to come here.”

“So your sister knows you’re here, and that means Alexander does, too,” Elsa said and Aaron nodded. “What a mess. But why would your uncle, the ruler of an entire kingdom, want to stop his people from curing themselves?”

Aaron shook his head. “What you have to understand is that Alexander Sinclair is a deeply disturbed man. I’ve been trying to decipher him for twenty-four years and I’ve never gotten any closer to figuring him out. I’ve learned not to question his actions anymore.”

Before anyone could speculate further, a familiar voice came calling from down the hall. “Anna! Elsa! Where are you guys?”

“Uh-oh,” Krisoff said, opening the door to take a look. “I don’t know if this is exactly the time for –“

He was cut off by Olaf dashing through the door and bouncing into the center of the room. “There you guys are. I’ve been looking all over for you!” He spotted Aaron on the bed and asked Elsa in a not-so-quiet whisper, “Who’s the smelly hobo?”

Elsa was about to berate Olaf for his rudeness, but Aaron started laughing and studied the snowman with child-like amusement. “Wow. I’ve seen a lot of things in my days, including magical beings, but I never thought I’d see a talking snowman. You really do have a talent, Elsa,” he said. Then, he shifted unexpectedly and swung his feet out to sit on the side of the bed, wincing in discomfort.

“Hey there, little guy. I’m… Aaron,” he said. Elsa had a feeling he left out his formal title on purpose. “I’m an old friend of Elsa and Anna’s.”

“Oh,” said Olaf, coming closer. “I didn’t know Anna and Elsa _had_ hobo friends! I’m Olaf, and I like warm hugs!”

Aaron laughed again, genuinely amused by Olaf’s bluntness. Anna knelt down next to the snowman and said, “Olaf! He’s not a hobo, he’s a prince, and you should be nice to him.”

As Aaron stretched his arms out and Anna started explaining the baffling physics of Olaf’s limb detachment, reality started to sink in for Elsa. She only had two months before her kingdom was under attack. Two months before she would be faced with the first act of war on Arendelle in more than ten years, and she had absolutely no military experience.  

She was terrified, and wished more than anything she could speak to her father. But she couldn’t show weakness. Instead, she needed to act like a queen.

 She needed to take action.

“I need everyone to listen carefully,” she said, and the others immediately gave her their attention. “We have a lot to do and I’m going to need all of your help. Arendelle is in danger. Anna, I’m going to put you in charge of the public. We need to make sure the city is ready to evacuate if necessary, but we can’t have a panic. Alert the people, but make sure they don’t know everything.”

Anna nodded. “Leave it to me.”

“Kristoff, I need you to fill Captain Holdt in on everything and make sure he starts preparing the military. Also, get your ice harvesters gathered in the castle and start thinking of ways to fortify the castle,” Elsa ordered.

“I’m on it,” the mountain man said. “I’ll also send word to Grand Pabbie. I’m not sure if the Trolls will want to get involved, but it can’t hurt to let them know what’s going on.”

Elsa nodded in approval, then knelt to speak to Olaf who was looking around confused. “Olaf, I have a very important task for you,” she said.

“M-me? Okay!”

“I need you to take Sven and go to my ice castle at the North Mountain and find Marshmallow. Bring him back with you, we’re going to need him.”

Olaf nodded excitedly. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen my big brother! I’ll go right now!” he exclaimed and then disappeared into the hallway.

Finally, Elsa turned to Aaron. “Lastly, I need you on your feet as soon as possible. We’ll start tomorrow.”

“I’m feeling much better already. But what exactly are we starting tomorrow?” he asked.

Elsa took a deep breath. She had mulled it over during the conversation and come to one conclusion: the only way this would end would be for Alexander himself to be stopped, and there was only one person who could do that. Whether she liked it or not, she was a Highborn.

She was the cause of all of this.

And she was the only weapon they had.

“I want you to teach me how to fight.”


	17. Nightmare

_It always started the same way…_

_A soft humming from the other side of the door. The gentle sound of a chair rocking back and forth. A beautiful voice._

_"Who's there?"_

_Aaron would walk in, a guilty look on his face. Thirteen years old, old enough to want to defy your mother but still petrified of making her angry. He clutched something behind his back, and only after some coaxing would he reveal it. His mother would look at him with those big emerald eyes, filled with something between disappointment and surprise._

_"Can you make it better?"_

_"Just this once," she would say. "But remember. This is our little secret."_

_Then she would reach out and it would be done, just like that._

_And then he would be there, turning the room into a sauna and causing beads of sweat to pool on Aaron's forehead. His eyes were green then, and his hair was short and neatly combed, looking like a taller, meeker version of his brother._

_He was so soft-spoken then, so fearful, especially around her. It had all started innocently enough. He had been calm, even somewhat happy. But that was the night Aaron found out just how quickly his uncle could turn._

_When the first flame was cast, Aaron screamed, and Fi would come running, running from her room down the hall to find her brother, to make sure everything was alright._

_But it was not alright; nothing was alright. The wall of flame would block the twins off from their mother who was pleading, begging for her life, for her children's lives, and they could do nothing but watch and scream and cry and hold onto each other until it was all over._

_When she was gone, there was nothing left of her, not even a piece of clothing or a lock of hair to remember her by. All that Aaron recovered that night was the book she had been reading, a large purple tome with golden script on the cover, somehow untouched by the flames as if its contents provided some sort of protection from the very thing it sought to understand. A History of Royal Magic._

_And just like it always ended, there would be a low cackle and a pair of glowing yellow eyes piercing the flames as Aaron and Sophie ran off, sparing one last glance at the scene that changed their lives forever, and they would start anew, reduced to the status of Panther and Swan, the history of Astor re-written in boiling blood._

Aaron jolted awake, soaked in a cold sweat.

Arendelle.

He was in Arendelle.

He stood, deciding sleep would be a hopeless endeavor, and paced his guest room. How long had it been since he last had that dream? He thought he was past it, but the memory of that night was never far from his mind. Apparently he had just become adept at ignoring it.

He opened the curtains to let the moonlight flood the room and walked over to the desk to stare at himself in the mirror, only half his face illuminated by the white light from the window.

He had decided to keep the beard, although he trimmed it properly so it wasn't the unruly mess it had been when he first landed in Arendelle. He also kept his hair longer and un-parted, lying loosely down over his forehead right above his brow, a slightly messy bed-head at the moment.

He barely recognized himself, he realized, but thought that was appropriate. He would no longer be the Panther of Astor after all this was over. A new look for a new man. Maybe that was just what he needed.

A sudden jolt of pain surged through Aaron's head as if an electric current were passing through his brain. Thousands of miles away, across an endless ocean, in the castle of Calidae, Princess Sophie clutched her head and winced in response.

"Something wrong?" Alexander asked, noticing his niece's sudden discomfort as she turned to leave the throne room.

"No, I… I'm fine," Sophie responded, regaining composure, and took a couple steps towards the door.

"I know your brother is alive," Alexander said suddenly, halting Sophie in her tracks. "You can feel him, can't you? Your blood is magical, after all. You try to hide it, but I know there's some sort of link between you and your twin."

He chuckled as Sophie turned to face him again, stone-faced. "Do not be afraid. I am not angry. You are loyal, my Black Swan. And for that you will be rewarded. If Aaron is with the Ice Queen when our plan goes forward, you may be the one to strike him down. You do want that, don't you?"

Sophie kept her chin lowered, but her response was clear. "I do."

Alexander leaned back in the throne, a smug pleasure plastered across his face and said, "Good."

Sophie bowed and turned to leave again. As she opened the door, Alexander called out once more. "You look more like her every day, you know. Your mother. She would be very proud of you."

Sophie clenched her teeth, fighting the urge to turn and scream at Alexander, to ask what gave him the right to speak of her mother, the woman he murdered; but she surprised herself by keeping her cool and quietly shutting the large steel door behind her, disappearing without a word.

She made her way down the winding marble staircase and through the residential hallway until she came to a door that she quietly opened, making sure to shut it silently. She walked over to the large bed at the center of the dark room where her father slept, his black beard damp with sweat and his face pale and strained as if trapped in a nightmare. Sophie sat on the side of the bed, being careful not to wake him, and put her hand in his before kissing him on the cheek.

"Just hang in there… Dad."

* * *

The castle of Arendelle was in chaos.

Or, at least, it would be without Elsa, Anna, and Captain Holdt holding everything together. By evening the day Aaron awoke, news of Astor's plans had spread to everyone that needed to know within the castle. There were mixed responses, ranging from a strange excitement (as was the case with the Captain) to pure panic and despair (Kai looked about ready to wet himself when he heard the news from Elsa).

The guard was put into full action, but the men themselves had been completely blindsided by a sudden threat to the kingdom, and morale was looking bleak.

Luckily, the Captain was more than just a figurehead – he was a leader. There was a rare twinkle in his eye as he began to prepare, sizing up the city's defense and going over strategies for a sea-side attack. "My soldiers are a bunch of twinkle-toed pansies at the moment," he told Elsa. "But two months? Aye, there's not a man I can't break in two months. Trust me."

And Elsa did trust him. She had to.

There wasn't a military bone in the queen's body. She was never formally trained in warfare in any capacity, and she briefly wondered if that was ever in the plan, wondered if it was supposed to be someone's job to teach her what to do in this kind of scenario and they just never did it, hoping there would be no need.

Elsa fumed at the thought before realizing that the only one who would have ever taught her this kind of thing without her asking would have been her father; it was just one of many things he never got the chance to teach her, she thought.

While the Captain and Elsa rallied the guard, Anna did as her sister asked and sent out a public notice for the chance of a sudden evacuation. Unfortunately, people were more demanding about information than she had hoped.

It didn't help that Olaf had obliviously decided to bring Marshmallow down from the mountains in broad daylight right through the center of the city, turning heads and causing a ripple of fear. Just what was going on that required the assistance of a giant snow-beast?

Soon, there were people at the castle looking for answers. And then a few more showed up. And then more. It didn't take long for it to grow out of control.

Anna, Kristoff, and Aaron stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard watching a mob outside the gates grow larger and larger as more people came demanding to see the Queen. Marshmallow was posted right outside the gates, trying to push people back without hurting them, but even the giant snowbeast wasn't intimidating the mob as they gained more momentum and people started gaining confidence in their cause.

"Looks like the cat's out of the bag," said Aaron. "And Elsa's busy with the Captain. What are you going to do?"

"We have to tell them the truth!" Anna said.

"Didn't you hear Elsa? We can't tell them everything or else there will be a panic," Kristoff said, and Anna turned to him angrily.

"Like this is any better? Besides, when did you become Elsa's little yes-man?"

"Well, she is my employer, technically," Kristoff replied and Anna punched his chest.

"And  _I'm_  your  _fiancée_! I pay you in ways that she never could," the redhead said, causing Kristoff to immediately turn bright red as Aaron snickered. "Besides, Elsa might pretend to know what she's doing, but she doesn't. Our people deserve to know what's going on."

And with that, Anna took off and Kristoff and Aaron exchanged a glance, silently agreeing that there was no stopping her. Instead, they followed.

Anna made it to the gates and threw them open, causing the mob to stand back a ways as the princess grabbed their attention. She looked around for something to stand on, but after seeing nothing she called up to Marshmallow. "Hey, big guy! Give me a lift, will you?"

Marshmallow looked confused for a second, but understood. He suddenly grabbed Anna by the back of her dress and lifted her effortlessly before tossing her onto his back as she let out a startled "Whoa!"

After a second of regaining composure, Anna patted Marshmallow and addressed the crowd from her new ten-foot-high vantage point. "Everyone, listen to me! I know you're all wondering what's going on and I will tell you, but I need you to keep calm!"

The crowd simmered and fell quiet. There must have been almost five hundred people gathered on the bridge now, all listening intently to their princess. Anna peered out at the sea of angry eyes and pictured the mob with torches and pitchforks even though they had none. For a second she had a hint of stage fright, but managed to gather her courage and speak as loudly as she could:

"My sister, Queen Elsa, is not the only one who has magical powers. There is a powerful dictator across the sea who commands fire and rules over the kingdom of Astor. We have been warned that he will be attacking Arendelle with an army in just two months."

The crowd immediately responded, gasping and yelling, someone even shrieked in fear, and it took Anna a moment to quiet them again.

"I know, I know, this is awful news, but everyone needs to pull together now. We know of the attack well ahead of time and we can be prepared for it. All I ask is that we all do our part. We'll need volunteers to –"

A man near the front of the crowd interrupted, "Why should we? What did we ever do to this Astor place or its dictator, anyway?" he asked, and there were some shouts of agreement.

Anna hesitated before responding. "He heard there was another magic-user, our Queen, and – "

"So it's Queen Elsa he wants!" the man said, and turned to shout to the crowd. "If he's only interested in the Queen, why should we all suffer? I say she should turn herself over to him and be done with it! I knew having a Queen like her would come back to bite us as a kingdom one day, I knew it!"

The crowd was riled up again, some shouting in disapproval and others agreeing. Anna heard someone yell, "Yeah! Give her up!"

"No! We can't give in to him! He's –" Anna started, but it was no use. She had lost them.

It was clear that not all of the people there agreed that giving Elsa up was the best option, but the mere prospect of it caused a maelstrom of emotion and debate, and there would be no civil conversation happening here, at least not now.

Anna climbed down from Marshmallow who was now batting people away from the gates. "Go now – I protect," he said. With some effort, Anna eventually managed to make it back inside where Kristoff and Aaron were standing listening, at a loss for words.

"Well," Anna said, brushing herself off. "That didn't go so well."


	18. The Trial

Elsa peered through a crack in the door, watching the massive crowd of nobles gather and begin to take their seats in the Arendelle royal courtroom.

"Anna, I love you, but you're an idiot," she said as she began to pace back and forth in anticipation. Anna crossed her arms and frowned.

After Anna's little impromptu speech, Elsa had been forced to come out with everything she knew – which turns out, wasn't a whole lot. She made a statement explaining Astor's attack, the nature of their ruler, and the reason he was targeting Arendelle – namely, for her. Soon, all of Arendelle was buzzing with the news, and the response had been predictably chaotic.

The result had been exactly what Elsa had feared: she was being put on trial. Again. And this time, it was not just about her and her powers, it was about the fate of Arendelle. Most of it would be out of her hands, up to the decision of a jury made up of high-ranked and wealthy nobles, so to say she was nervous would be an understatement.

"I'm sorry, Elsa… but don't worry, the people are still on your side, they love you!" said Anna, sounding genuinely optimistic in a way that Elsa envied.

Kristoff added, "She's right. It's just a small group of nobles that think you should be turned over. I asked my ice harvesters what the word is around town – it seems like almost everyone else is on your side. They'll have your back out there, you'll see. And we have it as well."

"It's too bad that small group happens to be people like Bryne…," Elsa said. She again cracked the door of the waiting room at the back of the courtroom where Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf had been instructed to stay until the trial began. She could just make out the nobles filing into the jury box.

At the front of the group was the person Elsa was referring to, Erik Bryne, the man that had first voiced his opinion about the queen when the mob gathered in front of the castle. He was a tall man in his fourties with thinning brown hair and a crooked nose. Bryne was the owner of several popular inns in Arendelle and possibly one of the wealthiest men in the kingdom, the kind of man who had his boots licked by near anyone he met. Having him on Elsa's bad side was already going to make things ten times more difficult.

Bryne was followed by a group of stuck-up looking gentlemen and a few women all of whom Elsa recognized; people that she had interacted with at some point or other, those with the most influence in the goings-on of the kingdom right next to Elsa herself. It was no wonder people like them would be the ones to jump at the chance to give their queen up – undermining the monarchy would put them at the top of the economic food chain.

That, and they were cowards.

"Bryne can shove it," Kristoff said, scoffing. "He's not the only one on the jury. They all get a say about keeping you in power and I'm sure most of those nobles will be on your side once you make your case."

"I'm not sure I have much of a case, though... This is all my fault. What if they're right? What if it's better if I just…"

"Elsa!" Anna barked. She wouldn't even entertain the thought of giving her sister up and, unable to protest, Elsa fell quiet.

Suddenly Aaron appeared at the doorway, A History of Royal Magic tucked under one arm. He plopped the book down on the table at the center of the room. "You do have a case, Elsa. And I can make it for you. But I need you to call on me for your defense."

"Where have you been Aaron?" Elsa asked shrewdly, closing the door to the courtroom. "The trial is starting in less than an hour…"

"It doesn't matter," Aaron replied, tapping the book. "Elsa, it's time you finally know everything. If we had the time, I would tell you to read this book so you could explain it all yourself, but I'm afraid you'll just have to rely on me. If your people hear the truth, they will understand that they need to fight."

"And what exactly is the truth?" asked Elsa. She had known for a while that Aaron knew something she didn't. It was a question she had been meaning to ask ever since Aaron arrived with that book but she never had the chance to, knowing that the answer wouldn't be a short one.

Before Aaron could say anything, Kai walked in, beckoning to Elsa, and everyone in the room knew they were out of time to talk.

With Abram gone, Kai was to be the acting magistrate in charge of the trial's proceedings, as well as one of the members of the jury that would decide the outcome. "Majesty, the trial is beginning. You need to take your place on the stand," he said, and the others fell silent.

"We don't have time. Do you trust me?" Aaron asked.

Elsa hesitated. It was a simple question with a simple answer, but she still had to think carefully before responding, thinking briefly about how Aaron had asked her the same exact question the first time he was in Arendelle.

"Yes…" she finally said. "I will call on you during the trial… I'm counting on you."

Elsa and Kai entered the courtroom. It was an enormous chamber made almost entirely of stone, constructed with an extraordinarily high ceiling and enough space for hundreds of people – and it was still packed. The trial was open to the public so obviously every commoner that could cram themselves into the rows of benches had done just that, hoping to witness the fate of their queen. To Elsa's right was the jury box, a raised, closed off section where fifteen nobles sat, each dressed in the most formal attire. Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and Aaron took their place to Elsa's left as Kai helped her onto the accused stand where she was to sit and be scrutinized for the entire trial.

"Kai… you're not… I mean, I hope you –" Elsa stuttered and Kai put a finger to his lips and hushed her.

"There's no need to win me over," he said. "I would stake my life on your word and will always be on your side, Elsa."

Elsa relaxed a little, comforted by his use of her first name, reminding her of the time before she was ever the Snow Queen or Your Majesty – when she was just Elsa, the quiet girl who was tended to by the castle staff in the gentlest way possible.

"If it were all up to me, we wouldn't even have this silly trial. But I do hope you understand – I must be fair in the way I conduct things here," he added, and Elsa nodded.

"Of course Kai. You always have been good at your job. Thank you," she said, and the magistrate bowed his head.

Kai stepped up to his post to Elsa's right at a raised seat that was too high for him behind a large podium and adjusted uncomfortably for a moment before clearing his throat and addressing the room.

"Attention everyone! It is time to begin!"

A hush fell over the room. There must have been hundreds of people in the courtroom and almost everyone was staring at Elsa. She tried her hardest to keep her chin up and look confident, but wasn't sure what to do with her hands and couldn't help but feel awkward as she stood there in her simple but formal gown with her hair tied in a rushed bun.

"We are here today for the trial of Queen Elsa of Arendelle who has been accused of endangering her kingdom and bringing the threat of war to the shores of our nation through the use of... unnatural magic," Kai appeared uncomfortable with the terminology as he read from a scroll of parchment in front of him, but tried to remain as neutral as possible. "Sir Erik Bryne of Arendelle will state the case against Queen Elsa," he finished and gestured to Bryne who was already standing, looking eager to begin talking.

Elsa met eyes with the business-like man for a fraction of a second before he looked away, actively avoiding looking into the face of the person he was about to throw into the lion's den.

"Yes, well… this is a rather simple matter, in my view," he began. Elsa had expected him to have a well thought out and written speech, but the man seemed to just be speaking freelance, either from memory or simply off of the top of his head.

"Queen Elsa was the daughter of a great king, King Agdar, a man who brought an era of peace to Arendelle and made us one of the most economically stable kingdoms in the North. Unfortunately, tragedy befell him, God rest his soul, and left us in a state of transition. Two and a half years ago, Elsa was named Queen and since then she has brought us nothing but turmoil, stress, and anxiety. She kept her powers a secret from her kingdom for twenty-one years, concealing herself and leaving us to question her capability as a princess. Then, her first act as our ruler was to plunge Arendelle into the worst winter we've ever seen by losing control of her unnatural powers. And now, after we thought all was safe, we find out that there is a kingdom looking to bring an army to our doorstep just because she is our monarch."

There was more muttering from the crowd of observers as they recalled the Great Freeze and the first trial, and Elsa did her best to not look as guilty as she felt.

"We cannot keep living under this threat. It has gone too far. If Elsa wants to serve us, her people, she should turn herself over to Astor," he continued. Then, he said something Elsa didn't expect, and looked at her for the first time.

"I am aware that Queen Elsa has been a kind ruler. She has done many good deeds in her short time in power. But we, as a kingdom, must look past personal bias, look past our emotions, and think about what is best for Arendelle. And what is best for Arendelle does not involve a ruler with magic. Now, Elsa has a perfectly capable… normal younger sister who can take over Agdar's bloodline and things can go on the way they were before… without all this nonsense. Without war, without magic… It is clear to me what the answer should be, and I hope you all realize it as well."

As Bryne sat back down, the chamber was dead silent. Elsa looked around at the faces she saw; some people were contemplative, others angry, some scowling in disapproval.

But most of all, there was a sadness that hung in the air, and Elsa's mind fell on one thought: Erik Bryne had made a good point. No matter how much she wanted to disagree, he was right, and people were beginning to realize that. People may like Elsa, but were they willing to risk everything, their homes and lives, just for her? Could they live with themselves if they gave up the chance to save Arendelle? It was not an easy question.

Elsa wanted to break down and cry, to run away to her room and lock the door, reset back to the old days where she was alone and could bear her fate without causing harm. But she could not. Instead, she stared at the marble floor in front of her and held back a tear.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kai spoke again. "Thank you Mr. Bryne. Elsa will now be given a chance to state her case before the jury deliberates."

More silence. Elsa stood, her hand quivering. She looked out at her people and saw what was once her worst nightmare – these people pitied her. They saw her as a victim of fate, a sad little girl who was given power she could not handle. And they expected her to be a martyr. Elsa loved Arendelle and all that it stood for. She loved its people. So if that was what was to become of her, so be it. She made her decision.

"First, I need to apologize, for all that's happened because of me. I never wanted any of it. I never asked for any of it. I'm so sorry." She took a deep breath, steeled herself, raised her chin, and said, "For the sake of Arendelle, I will turn myself over to Astor."

The courtroom exploded with noise. Anna cried out from somewhere to Elsa's left and the jury began to look around in disbelief. Most of the observers were on their feet, yelling and bickering, some people were shouting "NO!" and Kai was pounding a gavel trying to bring order, but to no avail. Elsa closed her eyes, letting her decision sink in. If her life meant saving Arendelle and all of the people she loved, then it would all be worth it.

Anna shouted, "Elsa! You can't! Kristoff, do something!" But Kristoff just looked between Elsa and Anna sadly.

A harsh whistle broke through the noise. "HEY! Listen up!"

Aaron was standing on Kai's podium, hands in the air and a scowl on his face. All heads snapped in his direction. "Elsa hasn't been given a chance for a proper defense, and I'm going to give it to her," he announced angrily, climbing down from the magistrate's stand.

Elsa put a hand out and said, "Aaron, stop. I've already made my decision." Aaron eyed her and shoved the purple book in front of her again.

"I thought you said you trusted me," he whispered, and then turned around to address the room once more.

"Elsa can't turn herself over to Astor," he started.

Erik Bryne stood up and barked, "And who, exactly, are you to speak for Queen Elsa?"

Kai responded, "This is Prince Aaron Sinclair, the nephew of the Fire Lord of Astor." He then looked from Elsa to Aaron as they glared at him as if to apologize for his bluntness. A few gasps emanated from the crowd.

"Astor!?" Bryne exclaimed. "You mean to tell me you're a prince from the very kingdom threatening to attack us? And you want us to listen to you?"

Hundreds of suspicious eyes were suddenly on Aaron, but he wasn't fazed, looking more determined and stubborn than ever.

"It's true, I'm Alexander Sinclair's nephew. But I am no longer an Astor prince. I have cut ties with my uncle forever and I've come here to help Elsa, your queen. I was the one who warned her of this attack in the first place. You all must listen to me. This is much more than just a fight between two Highborn, it's even more than a war between Astor and Arendelle. This is bigger than any of you know."

"You can't expect –" Bryne started.

"Let him speak, Sir Erik," Kai interrupted. "Her Majesty is entitled to a defense and Prince Aaron has proven himself not to be our enemy."

Bryne sat down, dejected, and Kai looked back to Aaron. "Explain yourself."

"First of all – shame on you for letting Elsa take the blame for everything. Shame on all of you," he whipped a hand through the air at the crowd. "For taking the easy way out. For casting Elsa off so that you can hide away and avoid conflict. I had thought better of Arendelle! You may be a peaceful kingdom, but how can you be such… cowards!?" Aaron spat. The room shifted. Some people's eyes fell to the floor.

"Fine then. You can choose that path if you want. After all, it isn't my decision to make. But giving Elsa up to my uncle will not save Arendelle! It will make things worse! You all think that handing over his target will make him stop – but has anyone stopped to even think about why Alexander wants Elsa? What he's truly after? The truth is that by the very nature of their powers, if Alexander kills Elsa, her power will become his – and if that happens there will be no doubt that Arendelle will be the first place he destroys. He will become inhuman entirely. And I have no doubt that he will never be stopped."

Elsa gasped and there were more whispers throughout the room. Bryne asked, "And what proof do you have of these claims?"

Aaron picked up the book and held it out. "This book was passed down from my mother's family. It is a detailed description of where the Highborn come from and how their powers work. But if that isn't enough proof… I've seen it happen with my own eyes. Alexander has already killed another Highborn and his powers grew two-fold. There can be no doubt that killing Elsa will make him exponentially more deadly. You've seen what Elsa can do. The destruction she can cause, even by accident. Now imagine a man with ten times the power… and a heart filled with hate."

More gasps and some outbursts. Everyone seemed to be in shock and nobody knew what to say. Elsa's head was spinning. She had no doubt that Aaron was telling the truth. This changed everything. This meant that not only Arendelle, but the fate of possibly the whole world lay in Elsa's hands. And she had no choice but to fight – she had no choice but to win.

Elsa stood and spoke as loudly as she could, suddenly struck by inspiration. "Everyone! Listen! I can't pretend to know a lot about what Aaron is saying. I mean… I can't pretend to know much at all. This has been news to me just as much as you… It is all so confusing and frightening, trust me, I feel it just as much as all of you. But I want to do whatever I can to help Arendelle. And its people."

All eyes were on her.

This is it. If they don't listen now, they never will.

"If I can't give my life to protect you, then all I can do is promise to fight for you. And ask that you fight alongside me. Nothing can stop the fact that this is happening. None of us asked for it. But sometimes…" she paused and looked at her palms. "Things just happen," she said, summoning a magical snowflake that hovered above her right hand. She lifted her hands and sent the snowflake flying overhead, then cast it away in a shimmer of light, and the room stared in awe.

"Aaron is right. And he is trustworthy. We are not cowards. The people of Arendelle are the most resilient people in the entire world. We are strong-willed, stubborn, and we aren't pushovers! I mean, just look at where we are! What you're doing! Magic clearly doesn't intimidate you. So why let Alexander? Why let Astor? We can fight, and we can win. And when this is all over, Arendelle will be known as the kingdom that survived, the kingdom that shut down the flame that threatened to burn us all. Let me lead you, help me, and I promise – I will never let Arendelle be forgotten."

Elsa felt like she was in a dream. She felt as if the words were falling out of her mouth like they had been placed there by someone else. When she was finished speaking, she could hardly believe what happened.

The room actually began to slowly applaud. Even members of the jury started clapping, one by one, and it grew louder and louder until some people even stood from their seats. Eventually the whole courtroom had erupted in cheers. She heard a few cries of "All hail the Queen!" and "Glory to Queen Elsa!" from the commoners.

Erik Bryne simply sat with arms folded, still mulling over all he had just heard, eyeing Aaron. Finally, Kai quieted everyone and announced that the council would now deliberate.

Elsa's heart was still pounding as she was brought back into the waiting room. Anna and Kristoff were already there and Anna immediately fell into her sister's arms, eyes puffy and red from bawling her eyes out.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again," she said, and Elsa just stayed quiet, at a complete loss for words, hardly believing that only minutes ago she was ready to give herself over to Astor.

The deliberation didn't take long. Elsa waited in silence with her sister, Kristoff, and Olaf, all of them too afraid to speak about what was going to happen. Even Olaf looked nervous, rocking back and forth on his bottom ball of snow and biting his upper lip. Aaron never bothered to come back and Elsa briefly wondered if he was trying to still trying to make a case to the jury.

Eventually, Elsa was brought back to the stand and Kai was speaking once again to the room. "It is normally customary for the court magistrate to deliver the decision of the council, but Sir Erik has requested to do so himself, which I am going to allow," Kai said and gestured to the man in the jury box.

Bryne stood and cleared his throat. "Thank you… I think we can all agree that this is quite an unusual situation and the decision here is not an easy one. What has become clear, through this trial and our conversation as a jury, is that we would be foolish to buy into this man's claims straight away and risk our kingdom on his word – plausible or not."

Elsa felt her heart sink. Surely they wouldn't…

He continued, "But it would be both foolish and cowardly to give up our queen for only the chance of avoiding a war. Especially a queen as unique, kind, and downright loved as Queen Elsa. We have accepted that this entire thing is much more complicated than we once thought and quite beyond any one of our understanding. For our ignorance, we apologize to you, Your Majesty. And we will back you one-hundred percent of the way. If it is a fight this Astor wants, then it is a fight they will get."

Bryne faced the observers and raised a fist in the air. "For Arendelle!" he cried, and the courtroom erupted in applause and battle-cries so loud that Elsa couldn't even hear her own shouts of joy and relief as Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf rushed to the stand to give her a giant family hug.

She had made it through her second trial.

After what seemed like hours of congratulations, paperwork, and endless hugs from Anna and Olaf, Elsa was finally back in the castle, still Snow Queen of Arendelle.

But she hardly felt like celebrating herself. The real battle was still ahead.

When she finally had a moment of rest, Elsa sought out Aaron who was in his guest room furiously scribbling something on a piece of parchment. He stood as soon as Elsa knocked and entered the room, fumbling with his hands and unsure of what to say. "Elsa… I… er, you –"

But Elsa suddenly stepped toward him and threw her arms around him, squeezing him tight with her head buried in his chest. "Thank you, Aaron…" she whispered, wishing she could say more but not having the words to do so.

Aaron hugged her back, blushing under his dark beard and said, "I hardly deserve a thank you. I never would have let you go out like that, you should have known that. But it doesn't mean I won't accept it."

Elsa let go and backed up a step, attempting to regain her queenly composure, blood rushing to her cheeks. "So… is it all true? Everything you said?"

Aaron picked up A History of Royal Magic from his desk, thrust it into Elsa's hands, and simply said, "Read."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note about this chapter - Arendelle is clearly a bit of a mixed government that I did not base on any historically accurate system. There are clear elements of democracy in the judicial system but the fact that they have put their queen on trial is a very strange thing, even for them. Elsa is still the acting monarch and has all the powers of a monarch, however. I just want that to be clear.
> 
> Again, sorry for the wait. This was a long chapter and I got a little caught up in it, so to speak. But I hope you enjoyed it and look forward to what Elsa will find out in A History of Royal Magic next time...
> 
> EDIT: I MESSED UP! I forgot to upload chapter 17 on here (Nightmare). If you've read chapter 18 and missed 17, go back and read it. Chapter 18 will make a lot more sense. Sorry about that, I put it on fanfiction.net but for some reason missed it on AO3.


	19. Insomnia

Another night approached its darkest hour as Princess Sophie lay sleepless yet again in the elegant yet somehow uninviting bed of her chambers, haunted by an endless stream of unpleasant thoughts.

At this very moment there were new ships being built in the harbor of Calidae, new armor and weapons being forged for the burgeoning army of Astor, and tomorrow Sophie knew there would be even more recruits to train with all of the incentive to join the military. At this point, the people of Astor knew that it was either fight or slowly starve to death, and anything was better than waiting for the Disease to take hold of you and everyone you love.

The worst part, Sophie thought, was that all of the funding for the Astor army was coming from the oblivious people of the Southern Isles. She had to hand it to her uncle – his alliance with Hans and the way he had been pushing his military forward in the last few months was nothing short of impressive. If only he'd use such business savvy on keeping his people alive and healthy.

The princess rolled to her side and grunted, shifting her thoughts to another troubling avenue: her brother. She knew by now he was with the ice queen; at least that was what she could only assume given the strange visions she'd been having at increasing frequencies ever since she last saw him. Flashes of the castle of Arendelle and cold chills would sometimes wake her in the dead of night if she were ever so lucky as to fall asleep. He was alive, and that was the one thing that gave her any relief in the torrent of bad news that was her life lately.

She began to wonder what Elsa was doing, and what Aaron was doing with her. The poor queen; Sophie almost pitied her. She imagined the pale blonde girl in front of Alexander in the midst of combat, frail and petite, an insect at the mouth of a boar, ready to be devoured. When Elsa fell, Arendelle would be doomed, and Sophie would be the one responsible.

It was never something she asked for, to be the one to help topple a Kingdom. It brought her no joy to think of all the death that lay on the path set out before her. But nevertheless, she had a mission, and that mission would lead her to Arendelle with an army at her back.

A sudden  _thump_  made Sophie alert and she instinctively reached for the knife under her bed. There was someone lurking in the hallway, and whoever it was, they didn't seem to be making any effort to keep their presence unknown. She followed the noise of footsteps passing by her door as they continued down the hall, clunky and haphazard as if a drunkard had stumbled into the castle. She grabbed her glasses from the nightstand, carefully clutched her knife in hand, and crept over to open the door with only the moonlight from the window to guide her.

As she peered around the corner she could make out the back of a hulking figure shuffling away from her. It wasn't until she noticed the red silk pyjamas that she realized who it was and lowered her guard.

"Father?" Sophie whispered, but the man didn't respond, apparently sleepwalking, and Sophie took a moment to place the knife back under the bed before coming back out to help him. "Father, what are you doing out of bed?" she asked, stabilizing the pale man. He was mumbling now, barely audible, and his head swung about his neck lazily.

"I… Where are you…" he muttered.

Sophie guided the man to her room with his arm around her shoulder, his size and drowsy demeanor making it a bit difficult for her. She finally managed to sit him down on her bed and she heard him say, "Aaron… where… are you, Aaron…"

Sophie's heart broke. The circumstances of Aaron's departure form Astor didn't leave him much time to explain things to their father or say goodbye, and the poor man had gotten sick the morning after. Apparently the fact that he was gone hadn't quite sunk in for Harold. "Dad… Aaron's not here. He's… very far away, understand?"

"No… He's my son… Aaron's my son…" the faux king managed to say as he sunk down into the bed.

"I know, dad, I know. Here, get some sleep. You shouldn't wander around in the middle of the night. Aaron is gone, okay? You can't see him right now."

Harold was beginning to fade off to sleep now, but he managed to fight unconsciousness long enough to squeeze his daughters hand and whisper, "He's not gone. Not gone…"

Then he was finally passed out, snoring even before Sophie could even ask what he meant.

Before she could ponder for more than a second, another vision assaulted her. Sophie had to squeeze her eyes shut to endure the sharp pain that rushed through her skull as images faded in and out of her mind like photographs.

_A dark ceiling… a portrait of someone she didn't recognize… a window... and finally a mirror, reflecting back at her… the eyes were hers, but the body belonged to someone else…_

* * *

Aaron shot upright in his bed, the back of his eyes pulsing and sweat dampening the blankets around him.

Any other time he would assume that had been a simple dream, but he was able now to differentiate between a dream and a vision brought on by magic. The priests of Astor had always told him he had Highborn blood running through him and magic would surely affect him in some way in his life whether he knew it or not. This connection with his twin had never been what he was expecting, but it was hardly surprising. He supposed it was better than casting flames from his fingertips.

It took Aaron a moment to comprehend what he had seen, but as the vision rushed back to him, he only wished he could forget it. It was his father, beard down to his chest and eyes wrinkled, greying in more ways than one. The Disease had gotten to him.

Aaron threw himself from the bed and angrily stomped to the mirror where he stared at himself in his usual manner whenever he needed to think. His father was sick and he wasn't there to take care of him. Aaron slammed a hand down on the desk, rattling the mirror. Why now? As if there wasn't enough he felt bad about, enough guilt weighing on his shoulders. Now he was a traitorous prince, a rotten twin brother, and to top it off, a disgraceful son who abandoned his father when he needed him the most. Aaron felt nothing but shame as he gazed into the mirror now, and he couldn't see anything but Sophie staring back at him with a look of scorn that he knew all too well, judging him to his core.

The former prince slipped out of his room quietly, condemning sleep and no longer able to remain locked in the guest room with nothing but horrible thoughts to keep him company. He wandered the castle, as he often did, as the night turned to early morning, and once again he found himself in the library, his legs taking him there through no thought of his own. The high ceiling and beautiful paintings entranced him as he weaved in and out of the oak bookshelves in hopes of finding some new unexplored path that he had somehow never come across before. To his disappointment, he always found an end to each one.

Finally a noise interrupted his mindless roving and he froze. He poked his head around a corner to see a yawning Olaf curled up on the ground, snoozing away next to a familiar red-headed girl who looked about ready to nod off herself over an enormous open book in her lap.

Anna hadn't noticed him, so Aaron took a moment to compose himself and veil the demons that were keeping him awake. He didn't want Anna to see him in such a bad mood, figuring the girl needed no more people to worry about, and knowing that there were things she simply could not help, try as she might.

"Couldn't sleep either?" he eventually asked, causing Anna to literally jump up, snapping the book shut and holding it up like a makeshift weapon.

"WHO'S THE- Oh, Aaron, it's just you. GOSH, don't scare me like that. I was about ready to clobber you," the princess said, sinking down to sit again with her back against the bookshelf. Aaron sat across from her, noting that Olaf hadn't stirred at all, the little snowman's personal flurry wafting around to the rhythm of his snores.

"Sorry," Aaron said. "Guess I'm not the only one with a lot on my mind."

"Yeah, well… I just needed to  _do_  something, you know? I've been researching the history of Arendelle and the castle, hoping to find some kind of information that could help Elsa. So far I've found nothing but boring stories about priests and nobles and something called the Great Corn Famine," said Anna, tossing the book aside and grabbing another.

"Sounds fascinating…" Aaron drawled.

Anna scoffed and jerked her thumb to her right. "Olaf was supposed to help, but I guess even snowmen made of magic need to sleep. Terrible design on Elsa's part, if you ask me."

Aaron snickered, feeling a bit better. Only a few seconds with Anna was enough to boost his mood, apparently. "I'm sure Olaf 2.0 will be more efficient. You really want to help Elsa, huh?"

"Well, yeah," Anna stated. "She is my sister. I mean, I just feel so useless in all of this. I don't have any powers, or military experience, or fighting ability, or… anything! What's an adorable twenty-year-old girl like me supposed to do against an  _army_?"

"If it makes you feel better, you're probably the last person I'd want to pick a fight with," Aaron said, attempting a compliment, but she didn't take the bait, simply giving him a cynical glare. "Okay, I get it. I think the best thing you can do right now is just be there for Elsa. She needs you now more than ever. You're her sister. You're all she's got. Without you, I doubt she would even have the will to fight like she does. In a way, you're the most important person in Arendelle right now."

Anna looked down and played with her hands, a touch of red appearing on her cheeks. "I… maybe. I guess you're right. Speaking of sisters, how are things… I mean, how do you feel? You know, about Sophie? Are you… really giving up on her?"

Anna didn't quite know how to bring it up and Aaron could tell she wanted to talk about it more than he did. He put his head back and drew in a deep breath. "I don't know if giving up is the right way to put it. She's chosen a path and nobody can sway her from it, even me. It's funny. I'm almost used to it. Fate has never been kind to either of us. To be honest… I'm just trying not to think about it."

Anna scowled, clearly unsatisfied with his answer. "Well,  _I'm_  not giving up on her," she said and then pulled another book from the shelf above her and began flipping through its pages, huffing.

Aaron wanted to say more, but stopped himself. The less he discussed Sophie, he thought, the better.

"There's been something I've been meaning to ask you," Anna said, breaking the awkward silence, much to Aaron's relief. "You said something during the trial about your uncle taking the power of another Highborn. Does that mean… you knew someone else like Elsa?"

Aaron stared at a spot just above the princess's head for a moment, gathering thoughts he had no interest in gathering. Anna realized she had conjured something unpleasant, but she waited for a response anyway.

"Yes, it was… there was a man named Percius. A king from a place in the Southern Kingdoms called Pierren. He was a highborn with the gift of life. An amazing power. He was able to touch a wilted flower and it would bloom back to life in a second. I saw it with my own eyes, more than once." He sighed and continued, "I wish his story was… I wish it was a happy one. He was captured by Alexander at sea on a voyage home… I was still just a young teenager at the time, too young to be involved in politics, and I never knew how exactly my uncle found out about him, but… you can imagine what happened to him once he was imprisoned in Astor."

Anna frowned and didn't pry for details. Aaron continued, "To this day, the people of Pierren still believe their king was lost at sea in an accident. I don't think they'll ever know the truth."

"I can't imagine they would want to know," said Anna. "Dying at sea is better than dying to a monster…"

Aaron shook his head. "You want to know something?" the prince asked. "Alexander wasn't always a monster. In fact, it wasn't until he gained Percius' power that he started slipping into madness. I still remember what he was like before. Quiet, nervous, even polite. He didn't have full control of his powers, he was frightened of them. Kinda like…"

"Elsa…" Anna finished.

"Ironic, isn't it? I almost hate to make the comparison, but it's true. I still remember the day he stole Percius' power. Everything changed. He created Efreet, he took control of the castle, he transformed into what he is today, no trace of humanity left. It was like the magic burned away his emotions and penetrated his heart. I can only imagine what will happen if he gets to Elsa too…"

"That won't happen," Anna stated, as sure as anything she'd ever said, and Aaron could do nothing but nod in agreement.

There was a lull as the two of them thought to themselves. Aaron hadn't discussed these things with anyone but his sister in longer than he could remember and it felt nice to say it all out loud to someone who didn't already know every detail of his life. "It wasn't until after our mother died that Fi and I learned all about the Highborn, you know. She left a book behind, the one that I've given to Elsa to read. Alexander was convinced that there was another Highborn somewhere out there, he just knew it somehow, and Fi and I believed him.

"So, many years ago, we made a pact. If either of us ever encountered another Highborn, we would kill them on the spot before Alexander even had a chance to find out about them. We were convinced that was the best solution, we were  _so sure_  of ourselves. Thinking back, we were so naïve it's almost painful. We thought we were being smart, doing anything Alexander said but secretly undermining him, hoping to take away his chance of gaining more power. We thought he'd eventually turn his attention back to the people of Astor.  _Hah!_ What idiots we both were.

"And then, it finally happened. I found myself in a room alone with Elsa, her Highborn status revealed to me in plain sight. I could've killed her right there, ended this all before it began. But things didn't go the way I'd always imagined. And Fi proved to be more dedicated to the pact than I was."

Anna, who had been listening intently, finally chimed in with a realization. "So  _that's_  why she tried to kill Elsa that night. There's one mystery solved…"

Aaron nodded. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about doing it myself. But I wanted to give Elsa a chance. I wanted her to live because she deserves it. And she would have been fine if her powers had remained a secret. When it comes down to it, everything would be simpler if Elsa were anybody but… well, Elsa."

Aaron took a deep breath. Revealing all of that was like taking a breath of air after being held under water by force. Anna drank all of his words in, coming to a conclusion herself. "You really care about Elsa, don't you?" she asked, and Aaron was a bit taken aback that that was all the princess could think about after everything he'd just told her.

"Yes," he breathed, admitting it not only to Anna but to himself. "I really do."

Anna let out a soft, high pitched squealing noise in her chest and pulled her knees up to her chin. "I knew it!"

Aaron raised an eyebrow at her. "Really?" he asked disparagingly. "I don't think 'who likes who' is the most important issue at hand here. This isn't grade school…"

"Oh shut up. I know you want to talk about it. And yes, I think she likes you too, since I know you're dying to ask. But keep in mind, Elsa has only ever been on one date when she was a teenager – Kai set it up, she didn't even make it through dinner before having to go to the bathroom to throw up."

Aaron couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Even so," he said, "love is probably the last thing on her mind at the moment. And mine too."

Anna rolled her eyes. "You blockhead. Love isn't something you can just  _choose_  to ignore. It's the thing that gets us through the hard times, like now. I would know. I am a self-proclaimed love expert, you know. So keep that in mind, Mister Panther. We're going to make it through this."

Aaron didn't know what to say. He was glad that he had been woken tonight, and super grateful that he had Anna to speak to. Being away from his sister was difficult, but at least Anna was there to soften the blow. He noticed a sort of similarity between the two – it wasn't obvious at first, as Sophie and Anna had almost opposite personalities, but there was something under the surface that they had in common, almost like an essence that made them each who they are. Neither of them would ever stray from that essence, and that, Aaron decided, was why he respected them both so much.

Tomorrow, Aaron was to begin training with Elsa. He was nervous, for both himself and for the queen. He just hoped he was a good enough teacher to prepare her in what little time they had left. Yet for some reason, as the sun began to rise and the library began to fill with the light of day, Aaron felt like he was ready.

"Thanks, Anna," was all he could manage, and the redhead smiled as she took back to reading, a comfortable silence nestling between them. After a moment, Olaf popped his eyes open and sprang awake, yelling "FOOD FIGHT" at the top of his lungs before looking around confused and disoriented while Aaron and Anna stared.

"I think it's about time we all got some sleep."


	20. A History of Royal Magic: Part 1

A History of Royal Magic was a massive tome, as thick as Kristoff's head and about twice as heavy. The cover was once a beautiful shade of purple, although it had faded with age, leaving only the shiny gold letters of its title as a remnant of its former glory. The pages were well intact, however, and the print was handwritten in black ink in an extravagant cursive font. As she flipped through the book, Elsa had to wonder what kind of person could have possibly written that many words with so much care and precision. She was surprised to see that there were also illustrations, skillful drawings of kings and queens and creatures she had never seen before, along with a few maps and landscape sketches of places she didn't know, historical documents and charts, and figures that she couldn't even hope to interpret as she quickly flipped through. Beneath the title on the cover, written in plain silver letters, was the name of the author, a woman Elsa thought must have been an extraordinary woman: Agatha Paddick.

Once the queen began to actually read the beastly book, she had to lug it around everywhere she went, often thinking about how Aaron must consider that to be a part of her training, probably snickering about it to himself whenever he saw her struggle to pick it up off a table with both arms on her way out of a war council or after finishing a meal. She was never seen without it despite all she had to do in preparation for the siege which was only a month away. Things had been going surprisingly smoothly since the trial, with everyone doing their part - even Kristoff, who had been hard at work with the ice harvesters fortifying the castle and the walls that surrounded the city, a job that he was surprisingly passionate about. When Elsa had seen the walls of the castle facing the ocean where Kristoff and his men had mounted enormous steel plates to protect from possible projectiles from the harbor, she was quite impressed. Her future brother in law may have been a bit of a slacker when it came to his real job, but she had to admit he could step up to a challenge it was needed.

Aaron Sinclair had given Elsa only a week to finish reading before their physical training was to begin; she had thought that was quite a large assignment to throw on top of all her other duties, but she didn't protest, knowing that their time was limited. Besides, she trusted Aaron's judgment and knew he wouldn't task her with it if he didn't think it was vital. She quickly found that her thirst for knowledge about the Highborn spurred her to read at a speed she didn't think she was capable of. Every night she would power through pages and pages and by the time she was finally too exhausted to keep her eyes open, she had gotten through so much content she could barely keep her mind at bay long enough to actually fall asleep.

The book began with a few words directly from Agatha herself:

_Greetings, reader! Or should I say Your Grace?_

_If you are reading this book, I am probably dead and gone and you are either one of two things: a Highborn for whom this book was written… or a thieving little maggot with very poor judgment._

_If you are the former, I welcome you to read on and learn of the secrets of your existence. If the latter, I suggest you return this book to its owner and save yourself the torment of learning of things far beyond the scope of someone as lowly and disgusting as yourself before you get yourself killed._

_The choice in the matter is yours._

Already Elsa could tell Agatha was more than a little eccentric. She couldn't imagine a thief would heed the words of a dead woman, let alone return something like this to whomever they stole it from, especially after reading something as juicy as that little intro. Elsa was hooked, and she read on excitedly.

The first half of  _A History of Royal Magic_  was simply an autobiography of Agatha herself. At first Elsa expected she was a Highborn like her, but quickly learned that the author was born no more than a poor commoner in the kingdom of Myleria far to the southeast.

Elsa knew little of Myleria itself, although she had learned about it some from her tutors growing up. It was a small, lush, green kingdom located right at the border where the Southern and Northern kingdoms met. Some called it the Center of the World as it was right in the divide between the Four Domains that made up the North, South, East, and West. The Northern Kingdoms had claimed it for their own a century ago, but if anyone were to ask the Mylerians, they would proclaim they were an independent nation that straddled the cultures of the Domains, a melting pot for all the people of the world.

Despite their ego, Myleria was ruled by a king and queen like many other nations, and upheld many of the same customs as most of the North that Elsa was accustomed to. It housed a capital and a castle where the monarchy resided, noble houses and knights much like those in Arendelle, but also many traditions from the South and East. Elsa heard that there were tournaments held yearly in Myleria where common folk were allowed to fight for titles, land, and even leadership positions – a cultural practice adopted from the Southern Kingdoms where the strong ruled no matter what, surnames be damned.

It was in the poorest district of the capital where Agatha had been born, nearly one hundred years ago, well before Elsa's knowledge of Myleria's history began. She was born to a common butcher and his wife, loyal subjects of the kingdom who were hard workers with no real dreams beyond putting bread on the table for the day for their only daughter.

Agatha hadn't been particularly pretty or good at math. As a child, she wasn't a talented dancer and couldn't play sports very well. She had plain brown curls, a sharp nose, and average height. But despite the mediocre life she had been given, Agatha was an ambitious youth. As a little girl, she would often go off playing in the woods near the edge of the city. There she would look up at the blue castle towers that she could just barely see over the treetops and dream of lordships and knighthood and banquets; all the things she believed she could take part in some day if she just believed hard enough. Her parents called her a dreamer with her head in the clouds, but Agatha never paid them any mind. She knew she was destined for greatness.

Agatha Paddick did have one talent. She was an avid artist who was never seen without pen and paper, sketching anything and everything she saw as she wandered the green forests of Myleria, a feeble attempt to escape from the monotony that her parents inflicted upon her daily life. It was in those woods that she felt truly alive and it was in those woods that destiny finally came along to change her life forever, though she didn't know it at the time.

At eight years old, little Agatha was making a routine stroll along the stream that started at the base of the castle and followed along the wall around the periphery of the capital. It had been her favorite time of day, right near twilight when there was still enough light to see clearly, just as the sky was beginning to turn a brilliant shade of yellow and pink. She had stopped to sketch a rather strange looking rock in the stream when she caught a flash of white from the corner of her eye and looked up to find herself staring into the face of a creature she'd never seen before. It looked just like a fox, only its fur was white as fresh fallen snow and its eyes were like green emeralds that stared at her with an eerie awareness. As soon as it saw the girl, the beast turned and sprang off towards the castle the way it had come and Agatha glimpsed three snow colored tails as long as her entire arm-span whipping around behind it as it disappeared into the trees.

Intrigued, Agatha took off after the fox, hoping to get a better look so she could sketch the gorgeous creature and preserve its memory in her journal forever. But despite running as fast as her little legs would allow for hours, she never caught up to the white fox and the light began to trickle away into darkness until Agatha found herself in the pitch black woods, lost, alone, and exhausted.

Luckily for her, the girl knew those woods well from her many years of exploration. Agatha managed to find a spot she was familiar with – a little pond in a clearing with clear water, surrounded by yellow and red flowers. From there, she knew she could find her way home. But it was dark at that point, and Agatha needed to sleep. She ended up climbing a tree and nestling between two branches for a safe place to rest her eyes until dawn came.

As the morning light broke over the horizon, Agatha woke to the sound of movement among the brush. From her perch in the tree, she bolted upright when she spotted none other than the white fox poking its glorious head from the bushes. It emerged to inspect the waters of the pond and Agatha held her breath, afraid that any small noise might startle the animal. For a while she just sat there admiring the creature as it gazed into the water, but curiously did not drink. It had three full bushy tails, a long slender body and delicate snout, and eyes that were so bright and green they seemed to shine even from afar.

Then the fox perched up on its hind legs with lithe dexterity and closed its eyes while faint wisps of golden light began to swirl all around it. There was a bright flash and, startled, Agatha had to close her eyes for a moment. When she reopened them, the fox was gone and in its place stood a beautiful blonde woman in a white nightgown, barefoot and staring into the waters with green eyes just like the fox's. Agatha had to squint to make out her face from atop the tree but after a moment she recognized the long neck, small delicate nose, and pale rosy cheeks of the woman. It was the face of none other than Queen Alissa of Myleria, a face Agatha and all of the common folk knew well.

The queen still hadn't noticed Agatha, to her relief, and after a minute, she stamped off back towards the outskirts of the castle with all the nimbleness of her previous form. Agatha climbed down, reeling, and ran back to inform her parents of the magic display of shapeshifting she was convinced she had just witnessed.

Her parents were less than amused by the tale, to the girl's disappointment, convincing Agatha that she had been seeing things and telling her she shouldn't spread rumors about the Queen, lest she incur the wrath of her husband, King Marc.

It was then that Agatha's obsession began. For the rest of her childhood and well into her teenage years, she thought of little else besides Queen Alissa and the white, three-tailed fox. She would fill her notebook to the brim with sketches and drawings of the woman and the beast, recounting her tale to anyone that would listen, but as she grew older, that number dwindled and those that did hear her claimed she was a crazy woman who believed in myths and fairytales. Her parents had had enough after they realized it was not simply a phase, and when Agatha turned sixteen, she left home, following a stern suggestion from her father.

"I won't have my home tainted by this foolishness," he had said. "I'm a common butcher, not a damn wizard, and your mother is a woman, not a fairy godmother. If ya believe in all this magic hogwash, go find out about this three-tailed fox of yours for yourself."

Agatha had been happy to leave. Her first destination was the capital, where she'd worked in a dirty, low-end inn for meager pay and lodging. It had merely been a stepping stone as far as she was concerned. She had chosen the inn nearest to the Castle of Myleria and every day her eye was on the castle gates. She had resolved to meet the queen and ask about the white fox herself if she had to, and the only way to do that it seemed would be to become a castle servant, maid, or cook - anything that involved direct contact with Queen Alissa and the infamously bold King Marc.

Unfortunately it wasn't as easy to get a job inside the castle walls as Agatha had hoped. The servants, she discovered, were all born into the service of the royalty, much like the nobles themselves. It was rather unheard of for an outsider to just waltz in and become a maid for the king and queen. Even so, Agatha didn't mind being persistent, and she took to spying upon the castle attendants any time she could, learning names and faces of those that would come into the inn late at night or who would visit the brothel next door on their nights off. She began to recognize the house steward, a man named Brom, who would often come in for stew on Tuesday evenings, and it wasn't long before she was asking him for a job. He'd written her off the first couple encounters, claiming there was nothing available and commoners weren't welcome inside the castle walls.

After the fifth time she'd asked in passing, he had finally paid her some mind. "Persistent little brat, aren't ya? Look, what is it that makes you think working in the castle is such a great gig? Do ya think it's so much better than working at a place like this? Well it ain't! Every time the royal family so much as sneezes, I have to be there to offer a handkerchief, else I get chewed out for two days straight. My room is nothing more than a prison cell the size of one of the King's closets. You're better off here anyway, girl."

To which Agatha had responded, "Oh, it ain't about the money or the room or the job. It's 'bout the queen, milord. She's a  _Goddess_  to me – the most beautiful woman on the planet an' the most fair an' kind. I've worshipped her since I was a girl - I'd do anything to just be in her presence. I'd sleep on the cold hard floor every night if tha's what it took. If there's any work you could offer me, any at all, I'd be eternally grateful to you and pledge my service to you  _and_  the queen, milord." When she was finished, she had bowed her head and put her hands together to accentuate her point, feeling a bit silly, but knowing that it would make her seem more sincere.

Brom the house steward had just looked at her skeptically for a moment, and Agatha knew he thought she was crazy, but she didn't care, as long as he gave her what she wanted. Then he'd said, "Ya can start in the laundry rooms on Monday at 8 o'clock. Don't be late."

And she wasn't. Agatha wanted to cry with joy when she had first set foot inside the castle. The laundry rooms weren't so bad, she decided, and she had been given a fairly comfortable bed to sleep on and hot meals every day. Best of all, she would catch a glimpse of the queen occasionally strolling this way or that, completely ignoring her in a way she didn't mind at all. Alissa was a busy woman, after all, who was beloved by all of her people and had a very elegant lifestyle to maintain. Agatha figured that had to be hard work. She wouldn't much know herself. Plus, if the queen was truly out in the woods scampering about in the form of a white three-tailed fox at night, she must be exhausted all the time.

_I wanted nothing more than to see Alissa transform again,_ Agatha wrote in her book.  _It was a dream and an obsession unlike anything I've had since. I'm not sure what it was that made me so passionate about it. Perhaps, somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought that I was chosen in some way because of what I'd seen as a girl. I couldn't have been more wrong._

It wasn't until she'd been at the castle for a few months that Agatha started to actively try to catch the queen's attention. She would take extra special care of her linens and clothing and any time she saw even the slightest tear or frayed stitching, she had fixed it, hoping Alissa would notice. She never did.

One night Agatha had gotten out her sketchbook and began to work on the most detailed drawing of a fox she had ever even attempted. It wasn't the white three-tailed fox like she usually drew, deciding instead to stick to a normal red-tail that were a commonality in Myleria, the ones with the white paws. She borrowed special oils from one of the artists she had met in town and worked on the picture for two entire weeks, making it as accurate and perfect as possible. The result was the best work of art she had ever produced, a beautiful and detailed portrait of a fox leaping over a log with a green, forested background with a majestic blue stream trickling off to the side. When it was finally finished, it was Agatha's masterpiece.

The laundry maid left her fox painting on top of the queen's clothes as she laid them out one morning with a simple note that read, "For Her Majesty – You are as elegant as a fox and twice as beautiful."

The next day she was summoned to Queen Alissa's chambers, alone. It had made Agatha's head light to walk into the royal bedchambers, a room which she never dreamed of setting foot in. Alissa was sitting on her bed, holding the fox portrait, admiring it when she came in. "You drew this?" she'd asked, and Agatha simply nodded nervously.

"How ever did you know that the fox was my favorite animal?"

Agatha wasn't sure what to say. "A simple maid's intuition, I s'pose, Your Majesty. I'm glad you like it."

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Agatha, Majesty."

"Agatha. Well I thank you very much for this kind gesture. Such a beautiful painting. You came to the castle rather recently, hm? They have you in the laundry rooms?" Alissa asked abruptly and Agatha nodded again shyly. "Well that's no place for a woman as talented as yourself! And so humble! You deserve a job more becoming of your ladylike nature! It just so happens that my personal chambermaid has left the capital to take care of her sickly father, god bless her, and I'm looking for someone to replace her. Would you, perhaps, be interested?"

Agatha was aghast. "Y-yes, Your Grace, I'd be honored!" she stammered out, and Alissa called for Brom the house steward.

"Brom, from now on Agatha will be taking over for Tiki as my personal chambermaid. See to it that she is briefed on the job."

"Of course, Your Grace," Brom replied, giving Agatha a queer look from the side, clearly in disbelief at her quick promotion to a title almost equal in rank to his own.

The next few weeks had been the greatest of Agatha's seventeen years. She was with the queen for hours every day, fixing her hair and helping her bathe and even giving her say in the outfits she would wear to certain occasions. Queen Alissa was a gentle and open woman who would speak to Agatha about anything and everything on her mind, often giggling like a schoolgirl, and the two became quick friends with a relationship that surpassed the simple jobs Agatha was given as a chambermaid. She was finally in the perfect position to come out and ask about what she had seen as a child, but Agatha waited, biding her time until the perfect opportunity came to bring up the subject. After all, it was clearly Alissa's biggest secret, if it were true at all, and she was still Agatha's queen, after all.

It was a rainy night when Agatha had made the mistake that would change her life for the second time. She had been brushing Alissa's long golden hair, delicately, making conversation as they had done many times before.

"I've been readin' more than drawin' lately," Agatha remarked nonchalantly.

"Oh? Anything interesting?" asked Alissa, sounding genuinely curious, as Agatha rarely talked of books or the like.

"Oh yes! There's this book I found in the library called  _The Fox People_. You ever 'eard of the fox people, Your Grace?"

Alissa hesitated for a split second, staring at herself in the mirror. "No, I have not! Do tell."

_Of course she hadn't_ , Agatha wrote.  _I had made them up._

"Well they're this ancient race of people… the stuff of legends, o' course, Your Grace, no doubt they weren't fer real… but they say, in this book, that these people were  _really_  into foxes. Ya know, worshipping them and wearin' their fur all the time, and all that. And the way the story goes, they had these shamans that had some magic powers in 'em that they drew from foxes themselves."

Alissa had been listening very intently, her green eyes watching Agatha through the mirror, although the chambermaid was paying no attention. "How fascinating," the queen said flatly.

"An' that's not all! There were some of 'em, these shamans, that were so in tune with the Earth and the forest and animals and all that, that they could actually turn into a fox themselves! Just like that, transform into a lil' fox, runnin' around on all fours!"

Alissa gave a half-smile. "How... whimsical."

_I should have stopped right then,_ wrote Agatha. _I should've taken the signs of Alissa's discomfort, let it rest for good, lived out my days with the three-tailed fox a distant memory of my childhood, happy in the Queen's service in Myleria. But instead I kept talking._

"There was even this one shaman in the book, he was the king of the fox people, see. An' he was so magical and powerful an' all that, that when  _he_ turned into a fox, it di'n't look like no regular fox. They say  _his_  fox was completely white with green eyes and even had three tails –"

"That's enough," Alissa snapped, pulling the brush from Agatha's hands. "I believe you should go now, Agatha. Good night."

Agatha had been taken aback, but did as her queen demanded, quietly leaving the royal bedchambers, never to return.

The next day they had put Agatha back in the laundry rooms. She didn't even bother to ask why.

_I berated myself for years after that night,_ she Fox People,  _hah! How transparent could I be. Alissa figured I'd been trying to subtly blackmail her or threaten her in some way. In truth, I just wanted to know if I was crazy or not. Turns out I am, but not because I made up the story of the three-tailed fox. I'm crazy because I thought I was trustworthy enough to speak to Alissa about her powers myself, a poor chambermaid of seventeen, the daughter of a butcher. And I paid the price for my assumptions, that I did._

The following week, Agatha was given a piece of parchment and was escorted from the castle, relieved of her duties. At first she thought she had simply been fired, possibly banned from the castle. But the parchment was no simple dismissal. It had born King Marc's signature and insignia.

Banishment from the Kingdom of Myleria. Agatha could hardly believe what she was reading. One little slip-up and she was cast off from her home forever. She would never see her parents again, or Queen Alissa. She would never get to see the three-tailed fox again. She would never explore the forests of her childhood again. But at the very least she knew that what she had seen was no falsehood – the queen was a shapeshifting sorceress, there could be no doubt, and Agatha would never forget that magic existed in this world, despite what anyone said. If nobody else out there would believe her, then she would get the proof herself. Alissa couldn't be the only one in the world with strange powers, and if there were any others left on Earth, Agatha was determined to find them and make their presence known.

The butcher's daughter had been dropped off on horseback at the southern border where it was hotter and dryer than what she was used to. She'd had only the clothing on her back and a bag with a day's worth of food, water, and a few supplies she had brought with her from the castle. The knights of the castle told her if she ever set foot back across the Mylerian border, she would be arrested and put to death, and Agatha knew it was no empty threat.

"Good riddance," Agatha had spat just before setting off, away from her home kingdom forever. "I've never like Mylerian food anyway."

So she went south. The Southern Kingdoms were a different world to Agatha at first, full of gravel, dirt, and sand rather than grass and shrubbery. The first few days on the road had been the hardest, and Agatha had silently cursed her father for never teaching her how to properly hunt or forage. Not that there was much to hunt anyway in the barren wastes she found herself wandering, trying desperately to just find a village or small town to take shelter in for the night. The South was large and uninviting, with long stretches of empty land with no civilization, and little else but the hot sun and the occasional patch of shrubbery for scenery.

Eventually, Agatha had come across a pack of travelers. They were clearly Southerners, four tan-skinned and hard looking men, with long black hair and barbaric faces. They were riding on horseback with many bags on their saddles and a few carts dragging behind them full of food and other commodities. Agatha figured they must be on their way to a town. When she approached them and begged to tag along, they had looked at her like she was a talking animal.

_While most people of the Northern and Western Kingdoms speak the common tongue, the South is far more sporadic in its language patterns and many grow to adulthood only learning what they need of the common tongue for business and trade. These men had clearly never even set foot in a Northern Kingdom, and they spoke to each other in a rough, grunting language that sounded abysmal to my ears at the time. Regardless, they had seemed to understand what I wanted well enough, and the leader gestured for me to follow them. They hadn't been particularly friendly, but they did give me a drink of water and a stick of jerky, and in my desperate state, they might as well have been gods for that._

Agatha had followed for a while, slowing the traveling pace a bit until one of the Southern men had thrown her on top of one of the carts so they could move faster. She had welcomed the free ride. By that point, her feet had started to bleed and blister and she was so fatigued from hunger she thought she might pass out.

Just as the sun was beginning to set that day, the caravan reached a village. It was like no village in Myleria that Agatha had ever seen, mostly made up of enormous tents and outdoor fire pits, with only a few small stables and wooden structures sprinkled throughout. She asked one of the men where they were, and he had just grunted, "Bal'rok." She had assumed that was the name of the village, and that was that.

When the caravan had stopped in front of the largest tent in the village decorated with a huge boar's head above the entrance flap, Agatha had climbed down from the cart and tried to thank her companions, eager to part ways to search for food and a place to sleep. The leader of the caravan had stopped her. "You come," he snorted, grabbing her arm and beginning to pull her into the tent. When she had resisted, he simply picked her up with his enormous arms and carried her inside, the other men in tow as Agatha kicked and squirmed, powerless.

The next thing she knew, she was in a huge tent as large as the great hall of the Mylerian castle. The sides were lined with torches and long enormous tables were set out on the dirt ground beneath them. Some men were sitting around drinking and eating what looked like raw meat, paying no mind to the screaming Agatha as she was dragged in and thrown to her knees at the head of the tent where a raised platform loomed a few feet above. A large man was sitting atop the platform on an even larger chair that Agatha compared to a throne lined with fur, watching with hard black eyes as Agatha was brought before him. He was a fierce looking Southerner, with a beard down to his chest, wearing a bear-skin cloak and a crown that looked like it was made of some kind of animal's bones. His face and arms were scarred and tattooed and his ears were pierced in more places than Agatha could count. He had simply stared, emotionless when he saw her.

The caravan travelers had spoken to him in their native tongue. After a moment of listening, looking almost bored, the man on the throne had waved a lazy hand and the men began to take Agatha off again.

She cried out, "Where are you taking me you filthy rotten pigs, get yer 'ands off me!" That seemed to get the man on the throne's attention and he put his hand up, halting the others.

"You call me… pig?" he asked in a deep rumbling voice as everyone else fell silent. "You are a slave girl now!" Agatha had been surprised at his proper common speech, although his accent was thick and heavy. "You will learn respect for your king in the whore house!"

Agatha's fighting attitude faltered when she heard that.

_How stupid I had been, thinking the travelers were helping me and asking for nothing in return. They had intended to sell me to whore house in this village of Bal'rok the whole time, to this king with his crown of bones_.  _But what can one expect from a seventeen year old girl who was banished from her home, the daughter of a butcher and a former chambermaid? I wasn't the brightest star in the sky, let's just put it that way._

"No, no, please… Anything but…" she began to plead. "I can be of service to you, milord! I…I can cook, and sew, and write… please, just, listen for one second!"

This king, or whoever he was, seemed uninterested in her cries. "I have no need of these things. Take her," he commanded, and the caravan travelers complied, grabbing at her arms.

Agatha had reacted instantly to the dismissal, jerking her head to the left and smashing into the nose of one of the men, then slamming two balled fists into the crotch of the other on her right. Both men had howled in pain and stepped back, clutching their respective wounded parts, while Agatha whirled and sprinted for the exit of the tent. She had been only two steps away from freedom when she'd felt a huge hand wrap around her ankle and slammed into the dirt. The next thing she saw was the boots of the bearded man on the throne as she knelt in front of him once more.

"An impressive escape attempt, girl, I do admit! You make my men bleed well!" he boomed, sounding genuinely amused. Agatha looked up and noticed the man whose face she had head-butted was covering his broken nose and eyeing her with a scowl.

"This girl has earned herself a proper introduction, yes? I am King Borus of Anvel, and this is my village of Bal'rok. Where does this feisty girl hail from, hm? You look like a Northern one."

Agatha was still panting and out of breath and it took her a moment to realize King Borus had asked a question. "Myleria," she breathed.

"Ahhh, Myleria!" Borus echoed. "The tiny kingdom full of trees and knights and useless things. If there was anything of worth in Myleria, Borus would take all of his Anvel warriors, and cut down the silly stone walls of your tiny kingdom and take it for himself! Borus shows mercy every day he does not! This girl should be grateful!" He laughed heartily, apparently amused by just the thought of Agatha's home kingdom.

Agatha looked up at him with a sneer, blowing a stray strand of hair from her eyes. "Spare me from yer whore house, and this _girl_  will march with yer Anvel warriors, cut down all them useless trees in Myleria, burn down the castle, and bring ya King Marc and Queen Alissa's bloody 'eads on a pike if tha's what ya want."

_It hadn't just been an attempt to weasel my way from my fate, either. I meant every word,_ she wrote.

King Borus of Anvel had laughed like that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard in his life, turning red in the face as he cackled. Some of the men around him had chuckled as well, although Agatha suspected they hadn't even understood a word she was saying.

"Oh ho ho, such a warrior girl, this one! She offers me the heads of kings and queens, as if it is nothing! I like you, girl. What is this one named?"

"Agatha, milord."

"Bah! King Borus is no lord! He is a warrior! I spit on your lordships and fancy words! And you are no slave girl, not yet, no, no. She is not pleasant on the eyes, a waste in the whore house anyway, I say! Ha ha!"

Agatha had never been so happy to be born with such an ordinary face before. She knew she didn't exactly look the pinnacle of beauty at that moment, covered nearly head to toe in sweat and dirt, her hair ragged and springing in brown curls in every direction, falling loosely down to the small of her back. She had no doubt lost about fifteen pounds since she left Myleria, leaving nothing but skin and bone left on her already slender body, and her clothes were now in shambles as well.

"I've always been a fighter more'n a lover anyway, milo – er, yer Kingliness," she said.

That also made Borus laugh. "A fighter woman, eh? Come. Eat with me. You are hungry, no?"

_And that's how I came into the service of King Borus in the brutish kingdom of Anvel, just like that. The King was a rough man who was quick to pick a fight, but for some reason, he took quite a liking to me, and some days I felt like he was working for me instead of the other way around. He'd asked me to teach him how to read and write the common tongue, something he was ashamed to admit he couldn't do any better than a child, and I was happy to help. I became his teacher and right-hand-woman, a notion that was unheard of in the kingdom of Anvel. Women there are treated like scum, given very little freedom and power, and it was no wonder I was viewed as a strange, fearsome girl when I had shown just the slightest hint of a backbone in the tent of the king himself._

_Agatha Sharptongue was what they called me in Bal'rok, the woman who fought with words. It was the first of many nicknames I would accrue throughout my travels, and it's one that rang true to me my whole life. It was actually very simple how I got my reputation – anytime any of the King's brutes would give me lip, I would send it back at them tenfold. At first it was a defense mechanism of a scared little girl, but it quickly became my trademark, part of who I was. Three years I spent in Bal'rok, in the prime of my youth, learning the things I never dreamed I would in Myleria – how to ride a horse, how to fight, how to skin an animal and cook it on a hand-made roasting pit, how to speak and curse in Anvelish. And most importantly, I learned to stand up for myself in a world that seemed to want to beat me down and grind my spirit to dust._

* * *

It was around this point that Elsa's reading was interrupted by a sharp rapping on her office door. She sighed, annoyed that anyone would bug her this late in the evening when they knew she was so busy.

"Yes?" she called.

"Your Majesty! I have something to show you!"

It was Desmond Holdt's voice, sounding unusually chipper and excited. The Captain had always been a pretty serious and solemn man with a dark past, Elsa knew, but ever since the news of Astor's attack came, he had seemed much more animated. Elsa had seen a new twinkle in his eye as he gave orders to his men and there was a renewed sense of purpose in the way he carried himself. The new recruits were already fighting as well as the original royal guard from what Elsa had seen, thanks to Holdt's vigorous training regime and unabashed guidance.

"Come in," said the queen, closing her book. Desmond entered the office with a goofy grin painted across his face, as if he had just thought of something hilarious.

"If you don't mind, Majesty, I can't show you here. Follow me," he said and started down the hall, not waiting for an answer. Elsa would normally ask if it could wait, but her Royal Captain seemed so excited about whatever it was, she decided to follow without a word.

The captain led Elsa out of the residential section of the castle and through torch-lit hallways in the direction of the barracks. She expected they would take a right into the armory, but Desmond continued deeper, past the steel doors of the armory and the courtyard, even past the storage closets near the rear of the barracks, until they were going down the dusty stone steps that led to the dungeons which formed a maze of tunnels underneath the barracks. Elsa deducted they were directly beneath the courtyard right about now, not ten feet below.

"Desmond? Where are we going?" the queen asked. "These dungeons haven't been used for decades… they've mostly just been storage cells as long as I can remember. What could you possible want to show me down here?" It was dark and gloomy in the dungeons, the stone walls and floors giving little warmth to the deserted halls of barred cells. Elsa could barely keep up with Desmond's long strides and when she thought she heard the squeak of a rat somewhere behind her, she quickened her pace.

"Aye, it's true, we've been keeping things down here more than people of late," Desmond said as they passed by rows of empty cells and dusty wooden doors. He stopped at the last door in the hallway and began to fumble with his keys, the clinking noise echoing off the stone walls. Elsa waited, uneasy.

He finally found the right key and unlocked the door, pushing it open and grabbing the nearest torch from the wall to illuminate the pitch dark room. Elsa walked in curiously behind him.

"Barrels?" she asked, confused. The room was packed to the ceiling with large, unmarked wooden barrels, all identical. Besides a single, strange-looking chest in the corner, that was all there was, as far as Elsa could see in the dim light.

"Not just any barrels, Majesty. These are all full of a Caedian substance called 'Gunpowder,'" Desmond said, smiling. Then he thrust the torch into Elsa's hands unexpectedly and rushed over to the small chest, bending down to open it.

It was some kind of special lockbox, only about two feet wide, and it was inscribed with a foreign insignia. Elsa squinted and recognized it as the royal emblem of the kingdom of Caed. "And this –" he said as he brought the lid up. "This is my secret weapon."

Inside was a strange looking piece of metal, not much larger than one of Desmond's fists, with a handle and a hole at the end of a tube. "What is it?" Elsa asked.

"The Caedians call it a 'revolver.' This baby will shoot a tiny metal bullet so fast it can pierce a man's heart and kill them in an instant. I'd give you a demonstration, but…"

"No need," Elsa said, putting her hand up instinctively as Desmond brandished the weapon.

"Don't worry Majesty, it's not loaded. Harmless at the moment. It's the gunpowder that makes it work," he explained. "Caedians sent me this as a gift about a month after I returned from Sefield. Said they'd give me whatever else I asked. So, naturally, I had them send me two barrels a year ever since! Been stocking up for nearly fifteen years." He beamed at his collection like a proud father.

Elsa had known that Captain Holdt was considered a war hero in Arendelle and Caed alike. Desmond had been sent by her father as a lieutenant to defend their allied nation from attackers and wound up in a bloody battle where only a few survivors had returned home. Desmond was one of those few, and had the scar on his side to prove his mettle – and his sacrifice.

"I see… Not to question the usefulness of your war gifts, Captain, but why on Earth would you need this many barrels of this 'gunpowder' anyway?"

"Because, Majesty! I knew that one day we'd be in a bind like this and need a secret weapon, and what better secret weapon than thirty barrels of explosives!"

"Explosives!?" Elsa exclaimed. "You mean to tell me that – "

"Yep! Just one little spark to these babies and…" he flourished his hands. " _Kaboom_."

Elsa fought the urge to slap an open palm to her forehead. "Okay Desmond… Not to put a downer on your secret weapon, but I feel like I need to remind you that the enemy we'll be facing here can do  _this,"_  she flicked her wrist and sent a magical icicle careening into the stone wall where it crackled and froze in place. "Except with  _fire."_

Desmond just stared at the icicle for a second, trying to conjure up a counter-argument, but apparently failing. "But Majesty they'll never see it –"

"No explosives, Captain. That's my final decision," Elsa commanded in a polite but firm tone. "As for that revolver, feel free to use it, but be careful. That goes in nobody's hand except yours when the time comes. And the barrels stay down here, safely away from where Alexander could blow up the entire castle. Now if you'll excuse me, Agatha Paddick awaits me."

Elsa took her leave, handing the torch back to Desmond and conjuring a glowing ball of magic snow for the purpose of lighting her way back through the dungeons (as well as a line of defense if she encountered any rats along the way).

"Bah…" the captain muttered when she'd left. "What's the point of having an entire room full of explosive kegs if I can't even blow 'em up!?"


	21. A History of Royal Magic - Part 2

The castle was asleep by the time Elsa returned to her room, but the queen was not tired. Over half of  _A History of Royal Magic_  still awaited her and anything else was a distraction as far as she was concerned.

Elsa couldn't help but feel as though she knew Agatha Paddick personally. It was as if reading her book was a conversation with the woman instead of a chronicle written by her and Elsa was compelled to read it as though she were under some kind of curse. It wouldn't be so out of character for Agatha to place a spell on her own book, and as the queen rounded the corner of the deserted hallway where her bedchamber awaited, she decided that even if she was under some kind of sorcerer's spell, she did not mind.

As Elsa approached the door to her bedchamber, she stumbled on something by her feet.

 _What's this?_ she thought as she bent down to pick up a kitchen tray holding a small tea kettle, ceramic mug, and a handwritten note in the unmistakable curvy scrawl of her sister.

_I knew you would be up late tonight reading, so I brought you some tea! Don't overwork yourself. We need you in your best health!_

_~Love, Anna_

A smile tugged at Elsa's lips as she brought the tea inside and rested it on the nightstand, amazed at how thoughtful her sister could be despite her busy schedule of late.

Anna had been worried she would be useless in the preparations for the attack, but in the past week she had proven exactly the opposite. The young princess was hard at work every day helping her betrothed Kristoff and his ice harvesters, organizing their projects and making sure the castle was as protected and well stocked as possible.

The mountain man was, of course, doing most of the heavy lifting, but Anna was always right behind him with a steadying hand and Kristoff was always very vocal about his appreciation for her.

Too vocal, in fact, for Elsa's taste. The way the two of them would flirt and giggle at each other in the hallways always made Elsa turn the opposite direction. The couple was just as lovey-dovey as ever despite the fact that their wedding had been delayed indefinitely, and Elsa could only stomach so much of the reminder that if she made it through this attack she would go back to sitting alone on the frozen throne of Arendelle.

Anna had also placed herself in charge of building a shelter for the women, children, and elderly of the kingdom who could not fight and who had no place else to go. It had been Elsa's idea, but Anna had taken it for her own personal project, aware that she had a more steady rapport with the common folk than Elsa, a fact that the queen accepted with a bit of resentment.

If the castle was taken by Alexander and his army, Arendelle would belong to him, but Elsa could scarcely imagine he would slaughter all the innocent of the city after the battle.

When she had brought the subject up to Aaron, the former prince thought for a moment before saying, "Alexander is a cruel man, but not a wasteful one. If he were to succeed, he would see the commoners as work-horses for whatever he means to do with Arendelle. Though make no mistake, Elsa, it's _you_  he really wants, not the kingdom."

So plans for the safehouse were put into motion. At the very least, the people inside would be safe during the battle, where they would wait and pray for victory. Elsa had ordered her sister to be with them.

"You can't be serious!" Anna had protested when the queen had brought that detail up. "I'm not leaving your side for a second!"

"Anna, it's not a suggestion, it's an order. You don't belong in the front lines of an attack," was Elsa's rebuttal.

"Neither do you! And you'll be in the castle anyway, not on the front lines. You're a Queen, not a warrior."

"But Anna, I have my magic for my own protection and I just don't know if I can keep both of us safe. Just, please, do as your queen says. Do as your  _sister_  says."

With a scowl and a huff, that had been the end of it, though Elsa suspected her sister would give her more stubborn rebellion before all this was over.

After getting comfortable, it was hard for Elsa to concentrate on reading for a bit, but she eventually found her focus as she sipped Anna's tea and soon enough she was sucked back into the story of Agatha Paddick.

* * *

_King Borus was a brute of a man, nearly seven feet tall, with a grip like a bear and a mouth like a lion,_ Agatha wrote. _He cursed heavily, fought without fear, and chastised his men for so much as dropping an apple on the ground. I once saw him threaten to put a man to the sword for charring his meat too much during one of his "Kalimahs," feasts of glory that Borus liked to throw in his own honor. Humbleness was not one of the king's shining virtues._

_I remember that night well. Borus had been perturbed all day, snarling at the slightest annoyance, almost daring anyone to push him over the edge. A servant brought in the main course, a rack of boar ribs, charred to black as I remember, and placed it in front of the king. Borus took one look and called for his men to seize the poor chump._

_It was an empty threat, I knew, but then again, I knew the King better than anyone after the first year in his service. He let the man go, but not before scaring him so bad he wet his britches and cried harder than I ever did even as a little girl. He got no injuries besides his bruised dignity and obliterated reputation, but the sight was still hard to stomach, and every person in that room grew a little more afraid of their king in that moment._

_I knew that was the intent from the start. See, Borus acted like a cold-blooded killer to his people and in front of his men, but it was all an act, a mask he put on to keep him feared and respected. When it was just me and him, the king was a dim-witted sweetheart who wouldn't so much as stomp a cockroach in the dirt if it went skittering by. And if you think that's an exaggeration, I'll show you the boots I made while under his service – the bottoms were coated in bug guts._

Agatha spent three years teaching Borus to read and write the common tongue, and his progress was slow, but he got better day by day. Agatha couldn't help but be proud of him.

At first, the king placed Agatha in one of the common tents with the serving wenches and whores of the village where she slept on the ground next to some of the filthiest human beings she had ever been near. It was hot and crowded, but the other girls were nice enough and Agatha considered herself lucky just to have a place to sleep and a job to do. Anything was better than life in the wilderness.

The optimist inside of Agatha was thrilled about her situation but the skeptic kept her alert, cautious, and weary. Sooner or later her luck was bound to run out, and so Agatha Sharptongue forced herself to stay cold and tough – the city of Bal'rok was no place to let your guard down, even when all circumstance seemed in your favor.

Despite everything she would have guessed, Borus grew on Agatha as the months went by. She found the way he struggled with simple words strangely endearing and his frustration cute. He never laid a finger on her or blamed her for his failures – he was much too stubborn and proud to blame a woman for what he could not do. He had a genuine yearning to learn, which took Agatha by surprise. It wasn't long before she was asking questions.

"What are ya gonna do, once ya learn to write?" she asked him. "Ya don't plan on visitin' the North anytime soon I reckon."

The king took a moment to think. "King Borus is ruler in a fierce city, my friend," he said in his heavy southern accent. "Many many men in Bal'rok… no,  _all_  of Anvel want Borus dead. And many many men are stronger than Borus. I am fierce warrior, yes, but that is not enough to rule. I need strength in the head as well as the body. My father and his father before him did not know this. I must have something other men do not. And Borus knows not even the strongest Anvel warrior in all of Bal'rok can read or write like Agatha Sharptongue can." He clapped her on the back. "Some come! Teach me your words so that I may go down in history as the King With Brains, eh?"

And so she did. From that point on, Agatha was not only Borus' teacher, but his friend and number one confidant. She drank with him, laughed with him and even shared his table at his Kalimahs. The king gave Agatha her own tent, right near his own, so that she would always be nearby. Agatha quickly gained notoriety among the king's men and they grew to like her almost as much as Borus himself. After two years, Bal'rok was no longer Agatha's prison, or a stop along the way. It was her home.

_Borus loved to talk about himself and spin tales more than anyone I ever met. He was known to exaggerate and boast and anything he said needed to be viewed with a skeptic's eye. However, there was one thing in particular that he would talk about that grabbed my attention every time – His grandfather._

They had called him King Ramsay the Earthquake, and if the tales were true, he was no ordinary man. They say he could split the Earth in two with the stomp of his foot and bury a man to his ears with gravel with the clench of a fist.

Borus spoke of him often, boasting of his great warrior grandfather as if his achievements were his own because they shared the same blood. He told Agatha that Ramsay had stopped a rebellion by creating a fissure in the ground the size of a river, swallowing his foes into a black abyss.

At first Agatha thought it was just a story, but Borus spoke sincerely, claiming he had been a child when it happened, witnessing the miracle with his own two eyes. Agatha had a moment of revelation when she remembered Queen Alissa, saw the green emerald eyes of the three-tailed fox in her mind, reminding her that anything was possible; reminding her that magic existed in this world.

_I thought on it for a long time when I heard of King Ramsay the Earthquake. Surely it could be no coincidence, could it? A King and a Queen of separate kingdoms, born of different generations, leagues apart, each possessing some kind of magical power._

_Of course, I had no proof of anything and the idea was just ripening in my head, but I knew there was something going on, something big. It was then that my research began._

Bal'rok was not known to keep written records of much, and almost everything was illustrated or passed down through spoken word, song, and tale. Agatha asked many of Borus' men about King Ramsay, paying particular attention to the older ones who would have been alive during his reign.

There were different accounts and some naysayers, but for the most part the story was the same. Ramsay the Earthquake possessed an unnatural control over stone, rock, and soil. He could toss boulders with the wave of a hand and create landslides with no less than a thought. In the southern tongue, they called him a "rak bar'rac" meaning "stone shaman."

Some of the Anvellish thought of him as a god and believed he would live forever – but they were proven wrong by his highly unremarkable and inglorious death from drinking tainted stream water and falling ill like any other man would have. The entire kingdom of Anvel simultaneously laughed and wept as the great Ramsay dies and left his son, Borus' father, to rule with no supernatural powers to speak of, and very large boots to fill.

Agatha was eventually able to track down a mural of King Ramsay in a trader's tent at the very edge of Bal'rok, buried under barrels of wine and wool cloth. It was painted over a sheepskin canvas and depicted an impossibly large man wielding a battle axe. Agatha almost mistook him for Borus at first. The resemblance he bore to his grandfather was uncanny.

On the mural, Ramsay was stomping the ground and causing pillars of rock to rise up and crash into an army of smaller men, flaying them in every direction. Agatha had recreated it in the book, labeling it  _King Ramsay the Earthquake – the Highborn of Anvel._

_It was only after I was convinced Ramsay was real that I came up with the concept of a 'Highborn' – a person of royal birth (or any kind of ruler) who possessed a form of magical ability, the origins of which were unknown to me at the time. I had no real reason to think magic-users could only be kings or queens, but those were the only examples I had been exposed to and I had quite a strong hunch it was no coincidence. Thoughts of Alissa and Ramsay consumed me for a time, and my old obsession was reinvigorated. Though Bal'rok was not the place for research of magic, as I soon found out._

Just as Agatha feared, her good fortune came to an end soon after her twentieth birthday. She was awoken in the night by a great bellowing horn blast that rattled the city of Bal'rok, shattering the dreams of all who slept, and waking the nightmare of war. The battlehorns could only mean one thing: Bal'rok was under siege.

The next thing Agatha knew, Borus himself was rushing her inside the king's tent, screaming for her to hide behind the throne and not to come out until he came to retrieve her. Outside she could hear the clash of metal and the screams of dying men, the thick of the battle already underway, the village in absolute chaos.

Agatha wanted to say she would fight as well, but the words somehow caught in her throat. Before she could protest, Borus grabbed his great-axe and stormed outside the tent, his head held high and a warrior cry in his throat, ready to either kill or die.

Agatha did as she was told, but adrenaline was coursing through her veins. For hours she fought with herself, listening to the battle raging outside, hearing men beg for mercy and knowing that some of them were her friends. Agatha knew in her gut that the battle was being lost by Borus' men and the invaders would soon be in the tent, ready to cut her throat if they found her.

Steeling herself, she crept out from behind the throne to find the enormous tent still empty and dark, the tables lined with armor, food, and various things men had left there before the battle started. She scanned the room for anything useful and her eyes landed on an unsheathed saber laying on one of the tables closest to the throne.

She dashed to the weapon, staying light and quiet on her feet, dressed in only a dirty sleeping garment, nothing heavy on her person to slow her down.

Agatha grasped the blade with a sweaty palm. She had practiced with a sword many times before with Borus and his guards, but only ever in friendly sparring and impromptu drunken bouts. The thought of meeting a huge southern man with a thirst for blood in single combat made Agatha queasy. Still, the saber was light and she was quick, and she felt more confident now that she had something to defend herself with.

There were men fighting just outside the king's tent now, no more than twenty or thirty feet away. Agatha swallowed.  _Maybe it's Borus,_ she thought _. Maybe he's winning and he'll come through that flap and rescue me in just a few seconds._

As if in answer to her thoughts, the two men fighting suddenly burst through the flap, one ramming his body against the other and causing them to topple through. It was Borus who landed on his back, with another hulking man grappling with him, a giant greatsword falling with a clang beside them.

Borus was struggling to keep the man away from his weapon, pushing with all his might against his head and arm, clawing at his face, his axe nowhere in sight. The stranger was roaring as he reached slowly for the pommel of the sword so he could end the king and his struggling for good.

Agatha shouted and tightened her palm on the grip of the saber when she realized what was happening. She sprang forward and ran towards Borus to help, but it took her half a second too late to get there.

The brute finally got a good grip on his greatsword and he wrenched it outwards, screaming in rage as he did it, and thrust the tip through Borus' exposed side where it entered through his ribcage with a sickening  _crack_. Borus grunted and his flailing stopped, blood beginning to poor from his mouth and side.

There was a moment of victory in the attacker's eyes before he looked up and noticed Agatha screaming and charging, steel in hand, and the last thing he ever saw was the look of rage on her face as she planted a foot between his eyes to wrest him from Borus and then plunged the saber into his heart.

 _That was the first time I had killed anyone,_ Agatha wrote _. And I did not enjoy it._

_Although, for some reason, I do remember taking a second to look down at his face. There was some kind of… satisfaction in looking down at a man I had just killed, the very man who had just taken the life of my friend, and I will never forget that moment. When it passed, I turned to Borus._

_The stories always have some kind of last words from a man as he lay dying next to a friend, some kind of wisdom in their last moments that escapes from their lips. But Borus never spoke, even when I was screaming and crying over him, trying desperately to keep him with me, shaking him uselessly. I could tell he could see me at least. I was the last face he saw before entering the darkness._

_As he stared at me with those big black eyes, he did not look afraid or defeated. In fact, he looked almost proud. And then I heard more footsteps and I knew they were coming, usurpers here to claim their prize, and I had no time to lay there and grieve._

Agatha fled, taking the saber with her. She cut a hole in the back of the king's tent and escaped into the night, narrowly avoiding a pack of men with torches and weapons as they rounded towards the entrance. She heard their whoops and cries of victory when they found Borus slain.

The fighting looked to be mostly over now, with most of the tents and camps of Bal'rok either deserted or overrun. Men lay dead or dying and some of the tents and wooden structures were ablaze, and Agatha was worried she would find her own home ransacked when she got there.

To her relief, Agatha's tent just behind the king's remained untouched and she quickly gathered the supplies and clothes she could into a pack and withdrew into the night, figuring she needed to escape before daybreak if she wanted to stand the best chance.

Agatha thought about how she would have to find a horse in the next village and then…

_And then what? I had nowhere to go, once again. North would take me back to Myleria from where I had been banished and west only lead to the sea. I would have had to take a boat if I wanted to get to the Western Kingdoms, and that hardly seemed likely considering I had no money. My only option was to head east. What I would find there, I could have only guessed._

_The Eastern Kingdoms were more civilized than the South, but far more secretive and exclusive, very little of its history and culture making its way to lowborn Northerners like me. I wondered if anyone there would welcome a banished Mylerian girl with no family, no money, and nothing to my name besides a saber and a heart full of hatred._

_But I had to try, didn't I?_

_The first few days were the hardest, and I came very close to giving up. Being thrown into the wilderness alone is hard, but doing it with a broken heart is damn near impossible. Every time I closed my eyes my chest would clench up and I would feel like screaming._

_It wasn't that I would remember Borus' murder or his attacker or even the moment I pierced the man's heart with steel. Instead I would remember the good times, the drunken evenings around a fire pit, throwing around light-hearted insults with the king's men, and the long nights chatting with Borus in his dimly lit tent about words and traditions and how to rule a kingdom. I would remember the small moments that would never come back, and I would die a little inside._

_Eventually, after simply putting one foot in front of the other over and over, after several nights of hunger and near dehydration, I became tired of my grief. I was tired of being helpless, hungry, and alone, tired of letting the world toss me around like a ragdoll on a stallion, and tired of myself. But my life couldn't end just yet._

_I still had research to do._

* * *

Sophie stared at her favorite spot on the tiled floor below the throne as she knelt there. She knew that spot all too well. There was a small crack right between two tiles where a strange looking blue beetle would sometimes crawl out of. Today it was nowhere in sight. Sophie wondered if it was dead.

"I'm assuming you've heard the news, Swan," Alexander growled above her. "Our captains have been speaking of nothing else. Twenty ships sunk and nearly half of our ground soldier's armor, weapons, and supplies burned, rigged with oil and torched from the inside of the Calidae armory."

Sophie stood and crossed her arms, an angry scowl painted across her face. "I got word this morning. Twenty ships… gods, I never saw it coming. I will have a word with the guards that were on duty. Anyone who let this happen is going to pay for their incompetence, I promise, uncle."

The entire Astor army had been in shambles today, trying to figure out how to recover from the massive hit to the fleet that was prepared to sail within the month. Accusations had been slung like mud from one guard to another and nobody would take responsibility for the destruction. Sophie couldn't blame them, either, knowing full well that Alexander's wrath was nothing to take lightly.

Honestly, Sophie had expected her uncle to be much angrier than he was when she finally came to report to him this evening. He had been waiting with a frown and had summoned Efreet to guard the door when the princess arrived, but he was surprisingly calm. It made her weary.

"This reeks of sabotage, niece," said Alexander. "If there are traitors among us, they must be sniffed out and put to the flame or we will never sail for Arendelle." The fire lord gave her a long, suspicious glare that made Sophie's eyes widen.

"You… you don't think  _I_  had something to do with this, uncle? I would never –"

"Spare me your prayer of loyalty," he said, raising a hand. "I've already caught the traitorous bastards. Five of them, all young recruits barely out of training caught fleeing the capital on their way south. Only one confessed, but he sold out the others. They are being held in the stronghold as we speak."

Sophie was surprised by that. "Why am I just now hearing about this? I spent all day sorting this out and I was under the impression the perpetrator was never caught."

"A precaution. I had to rule you out as the one giving the order, so I had them tortured and questioned earlier today. Fortunately, none gave any hint that they took orders from the Black Swan. It appears they were merely rebels from the streets looking for vengeance on me for deaths due to the Disease. Why they targeted my ships, I still am unsure. Rebels with no sense of direction, it seems. Still an impressive feat for just five men. They no doubt schemed for a long time, finding the weak spot in the hulls of the battleships and using corrosive acid to burn through them. I wouldn't have even known how to do it myself, I admit."

"I… I don't know what to say uncle. I will make sure they rot in the dungeons for what they've done."

Alexander laughed coldly. "Hah! Dungeons are for petty thieves and hostages. Traitors and deserters get the flame. I will execute the five of them in the morning with the whole army watching. We'll see who seeks to betray us after that."

Sophie went white. If these boys were fresh recruits they could be no older than eighteen or nineteen years old, and what Alexander was suggesting was not a quick painless death, if she knew him. A noose is one thing to pay for your crimes, but burned alive in front of thousands? It was too cruel. "Uncle, surely there must be another way to send a message…"

"Are you questioning me?" he boomed, causing the torches to flicker. Sophie thought she saw a bit of red appear in his palm. Perhaps he was angrier than she originally thought, but unwilling to show it. "I will punish traitors how I always have. As for the guards who allowed it, I will leave them to you. Make sure this kind of backhanded cowardice is never seen in my army again. At any rate, the invasion will have to be delayed until we can replenish what was destroyed. I will not go to war with Arendelle at half strength."

"Yes, uncle, I understand," Sophie said, bowing in submission. She knew that pushing the issue of the executions would only lead to a worse fate for the men at this point. "By your leave." She began to walk down the length of the throne room to the door while Alexander called for Efreet.

The golem came lumbering in from his place just outside the door, heat and flame bursting from the cracks between the stones that made up his body. He stared with fiery red eyes at Sophie as he passed her, making a sound like a belch and spitting out a small flame. Sophie returned the stare and took off her glasses to polish them with the end of her sleeve.

"Oh, one more thing, Swan," Alexander said as Efreet stomped over beside him and curled into a ball of molten stone. "There's a tavern in the city called the Sundown run by a man named Vasheer Maljahr."

Sophie's blood turned to ice and she froze. _What does he know about Vash?_

"Word has come to me that he trades heavily with Arendelle. I want him brought to me for questioning."

The princess had to physically restrain a sigh of relief. _Nothing. He knows nothing._

"Of course, uncle. I will find him."


	22. A History of Royal Magic - Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it's safe to say at this point I really took Agatha's story and ran with it - BUT I promise this is all relevant and important, especially at the end of this chapter, and I have not forgotten about our friends Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf. We are on a steady climb to the climax at this point and I will not disappoint, there are still plenty of surprises in store. Thanks for reading :)

Agatha fought on, making good use of the skills she had learned from the Anvellish people, foraging what she could, building fires and setting traps, creating camps from scratch to make it through the long nights when she could walk no further.

When she finally reached a small town, she threw herself at a chance to work for a roof to sleep under. For weeks, Agatha worked for a farmer from dusk until dawn, sleeping in the attic of his barn, earning herself a meager meal every day.

Eventually she worked off enough to pay for one of the farmer's horses and then she was gone again, continuing east on horseback.

It didn't take long after that for Agatha to realize she had entered the Eastern Kingdoms. Small villages turned to bustling towns and dirt paths turned to cobbled roads. Buildings like those she remembered in Myleria started appearing and with them came the tallest trees she had ever laid eyes on, towering over even the largest buildings like watchful wood guardians. Plants and flowers bloomed all around and the air was thick with moisture. The landscape began to ripple with hills and valleys and the sun would paint the cloudy horizon in spectacular shades of purple every single evening.

The people here were different as well. The further east Agatha went, the shorter and stockier the citizens became. Eventually, Agatha was the tallest person everywhere she went, drawing peculiar looks and making children whisper to their friends in astonishment.

Their stature was not the only strange thing about these people, Agatha couldn't help but notice. Every man and woman past puberty had a different peculiar color of hair. Not the normal variety of black, brown, or blonde that was normal in the North, but bright and unnatural colors – pinks, blues, greens and yellows, colors that varied in every sense of the word and could never grow from the head of a human naturally, as far as Agatha knew.

Crowds looked like rainbows, so much so that Agatha's mouse-brown curls seemed dull and plain enough to dampen the scene anywhere she went, as if an artist had dipped his brush into the wrong color of paint. People noticed her, and they made no effort to hide their stares.

It was no small wonder, as Agatha's height wasn't her only strange feature. Her long, thick hair was braided in a traditional Anvellish braid, which looked out of place on a Northern girl to begin with, highlighting her square facial features and large, brown eyes. She still wore her wolfskin garments, handmade by the king's men in Bal'rok, making her look like a wild huntress far from her hunting grounds. To top it off, she was much more muscular than she had been before her banishment, and at least six inches taller than nearly everyone she passed.

Agatha remembered what it had been like growing up in Myleria, where she could travel all day through crowds and nobody would even spare her a passing glance. Now she was a giant among dwarves and no less than a spectacle.

_Let them gawk_ , she thought as she rode through towns and parted crowds.  _It's better than being invisible._

Agatha did her best to ignore her misplaced appearance and focus on her next step. It had been months since the fall of Bal'rok and she had lived off of nothing but berries, nuts, and the occasional stringy piece of meat from a hare she managed to trap since the farm. She also hadn't had a good night of sleep in what seemed like ages.

Luckily the people in the East spoke the common tongue and Agatha had no issues asking around and finding her bearings. She had landed right on the border of the Kingdom of Xhanu, a fairly large and spread out nation that she had only heard rumors about.

Some called Xhanu the  _Land of Steel_  because of its infamously fine-crafted weaponry and the people's skill in swordplay. It was true, as Agatha quickly saw, there were armories and smith shops at every corner and it wasn't uncommon to see people carrying a blade at the hip.

Everywhere that wasn't a town or city in Xhanu was a thick jungle, damp and dangerous, hidden away from the world, making it an anomaly of sorts to anybody that wasn't from there. It was no wonder there were few travelers about, and that made Agatha all the more out of place.

_Remembering Queen Alissa and Ramsay the Earthquake, I wondered about the Highborn. What secrets did the royalty of Xhanu have to hide? Were there magic users here as well, in some time long ago, or even now?_

_At the time, I had no way of finding out. I was more concerned with my short-term wellbeing than my research. Still, the thought never left my mind, even on nights when I went to sleep hungry._

The first town Agatha found herself in was nothing special, though it was far better than the wastelands that loomed to the west. She dismounted at the first inn she saw, hauling her entire pack along with her.

The inn was empty, dark, and dusty, with only a bar and a few tables lit by candles on the first floor. The innkeep was standing on a chair fixing a hole in the wall when Agatha entered.

He was a short, fat man with long, light green hair and a pug nose. He wore a strange looking robe decorated with flowers and had a sweaty forehead, and he grunted as he strained to reach for the hole to patch it up.

When he noticed Agatha, he turned and took a moment to eye her up and down and then had to stifle a laugh. "What jokester god sent us this one, eh?" he said bluntly.

Agatha ignored the insult, pushing her pack onto the table of the bar as the man stepped down from the chair. "I'm in needuva room," she said.

"You have the coin?"

"Not exac'ly, but I have –"

"Of course you don't!" he cut her off. "A brown-haired Northern girl dressed like an Anvel warrior doesn't have any money. Why did I even bother asking!"

Agatha clenched her jaw. "I can give ya fair work for fair housin'."

"Oh, don't be so serious, girl. I'm only teasing," the man laughed, shuffling behind the counter and grabbing a flagon of wine for himself. "It's not every day I see a girl come through here with hair like  _that_."

"An' what's so wrong with my hair!?" Agatha snapped, feeling strangely self-conscious. "Is it ugly, 'cause it's not puke-green like yers?"

"Puke?" the inkeep gasped, taken aback. "My, my girl, do you know nothing? This is your first time in Xhanu? You have not even heard of the Teishu ritual?"

Agatha stayed silent, her mood soured. The man's manner shifted instantly, as if realizing he was speaking to a child or a half-wit. "Allow me to educate you, girl. You are in the kingdom of Xhanu, a very old and proud place with thousands and thousands of years of tradition." He poured Agatha her own cup of wine and offered it to her. She took it begrudgingly and sipped it while he spoke.

"Here, we value those with skill, and we mark our people in accordance with their spirit and personality," he said, fingering his green hair between his thumb and index as if to demonstrate what he was saying. Agatha just stared.

"When a child reaches a certain age, they are expected to have mastered a skill, something that contributes to our society. Then, they go through something called the Teishu ritual, where they demonstrate that skill to their communities, proving their worth and creating a name for themselves. At the end of the ritual, they are marked with the essence of Teishu, the Goddes of Virtue, and their hair forever becomes the color of their spirit, their very being. Those that have not been marked by Teishu are said to be worthless to our society. You are unmarked, my girl. Forgive my rudeness, but there is a reason foreigners are looked down upon here in Xhanu."

That made many things make sense to Agatha, but unwilling to show gratitude for the explanation, she grumbled, "It ain't my fault I was born in Myleria and didn't go through no dumb ritual." The man looked amused as she took another sip of wine and said, "I'm assumin' inns work the same way in Xhanu as e'rrywhere else, hm? You got a room for me or not?"

The innkeep laughed. "Well you are lucky, my girl, as my hair is green, and it just so happens that green is the color of generosity. Fair work for fair housing, yes?"

_The innkeep's name was Raikka, and he allowed me to stay there in exchange for modest housework and general upkeep of the inn. He was kind to me, despite his terrible first impression, and I grew to like the oaf as time went on._

_The kingdom of Xhanu turned out to be more like Myleria than I had expected, and I grew accustomed to it quickly, though I do admit the transition from Bal'rok was a tough one. I often craved the free and rambunctious atmosphere of the south, the outdoors, the fire pits, the hunting trips, the Kalimahs._

_And most of all, I missed Borus._

_Still, after a few months I began to settle into a normal life, though I couldn't ignore the condescending attitude of the citizens towards me. At first I thought everyone was just rude in Xhanu, but I quickly realized that it was because of my brown, painfully boring hair. I was what they called a 'Fengoin', a word meaning "useless" in the old tongue of the Eastern Kingdoms; a leech on society and a failure._

"If you grow tired of your status as a Fengoin, perhaps it is time you had your Teishu ritual, eh Agatha?" Raikka said to her one night after she had been publicly scolded by a woman with purple hair for bringing her the wrong kind of wine.

Agatha gave a half-hearted scoff. "I don't need ta prove myself to no one," she said, vigorously polishing a mug. "'Sides, I wouldn't know what skill I'd be good enough at for the dumb ritual."

"I've seen you out in the back with that saber of yours, hacking away at the trees. If swordsmanship interests you, why not make that your true calling? I dare say I'd love to see  _that._ "

Agatha averted her eyes. She'd hoped that nobody was watching when she took the saber back to practice with it.

_It was true, the art of fighting had consumed my thoughts ever since the night Bal'rok was taken. The experience had made me realize that life was short and could be taken so very easily. If a blade in my hand could spare me the fate of Borus and the men of his city, then I wanted to learn how to use it._

"Fightin's the type of thing I can't much teach myself," she told Raikka.

"There's no shortage of masters of the sword in Xhanu, my dear. In fact, there are rumors going about that Prince Myka himself trains with his master at a temple very nearby this town, somewhere in the jungle," said Raikka.

Now he had Agatha's attention. Prince Myka was the son of the emperor of Xhanu and an infamous swordsman and rogue. He was said to travel from town to town challenging the toughest fighters he could find, besting them all with ease. His fiery red hair and ruby encrusted blade were his defining characteristics, earning him the nickname of the Crimson Sun.

Agatha swore to herself she would meet him one day, but she had no notion of how to do that until now.

"Prince Myka? You mean he's been trainin' near this town this whole time?" Agatha asked, sounding more excited then she meant to let on. "Do ya know where this temple is?"

"I'm afraid I don't know exactly," Raikka answered. "If the prince's training grounds were common knowledge, the boy would have an audience every single day. Wherever it is, I'm sure it's well hidden."

And well-hidden it was, but Agatha knew not to look for the  _place_ , but rather the  _person_. If the prince himself were training near their town, he would surely have to come there every once in a while if only for a bite to eat or a piece of spare equipment.

It took Agatha only two weeks to spot the prince in the town market. At first she was fixated on the red hair that he was so famous for, but she quickly realized that he would most likely hide his most recognizable feature if he wanted to go unseen.

So, she looked for those whose heads were covered instead. Hats were extremely uncommon in Xhanu as one's hair was a point of pride, showcasing their personality. When Agatha caught sight of a man with a straw hat and bandana that completely covered his hair, she knew something was strange. He had a sword on his left hip, which wasn't a glaring oddity, but this man kept a gloved hand covering the pommel, being very careful to keep it out of sight.

Agatha followed him all the way to the outskirts of town where he mounted a pure-bred white stallion. For an instant as he climbed onto the horse, the hilt of his sword was revealed, and the red rubies caught the light perfectly. Even from afar, Agatha could tell that was no ordinary weapon and no ordinary horse. Only the wealthiest of men could afford gems that size, she was certain. This man was the Crimson Sun.

It wasn't difficult to track the prince through the jungle, at least not for Agatha. She left her own mare back at the inn for the sake of discretion, and after a few hours of stepping over vines and hacking through thick brush, she came upon the temple.

It wasn't a large structure, but it was surely old and important. Vines ran up its stone perimeter and decorated its stepped entrance like a green spider web. There was a clearing in the trees just before the large steel door where statues shaped like soldiers of old were carved in stone, guarding the entrance with sinister glares.

The door was sealed tight, and when Agatha circled around the building, she only found more stone and more statues. Frustrated, Agatha waited.

It wasn't until late in the evening that the steel door slid open with a rumble and Prince Myka appeared along with a small, older man with a solemn face and a mop of silver hair tied back into a short ponytail. She could only assume that was Myka's teacher.

When they emerged from the temple, the men said their farewells to each other, completely ignoring Agatha as she stood patiently at the bottom of the steps. Prince Myka walked right past her without so much as a glance and was gone before Agatha registered how close he had been to her. The other man had disappeared into the temple and once again, Agatha was alone in the jungle.

Furious, she memorized the location of the temple and for the next few weeks, she practically lived there, and the pattern began.

Every day Prince Myka would come from the midst of the jungle to enter the temple and every day he would walk right past Agatha in silence. She tried to call out to him and his master to explain herself, but it was no use. It was as if she was an insect to the two men, not even worthy of a word of scorn for following the prince there. She was invisible.

_I had the naïve notion ever since I found the temple that this would be some kind of test. All I needed to do was show patience and dedication and the master would see me for my potential and grant me entrance. That's how these things were supposed to work, in my mind. After a while I resorted to sitting by the temple and calmly awaiting some kind of acknowledgment. Every day that it didn't come I grew more and more frustrated. At some point, I realized that there was no test and I was simply a fool. These men truly did not give a flying deuce about me._

Agatha snapped one grey morning as Prince Myka passed her by once again on the steps to the temple. The only thing he seemed to care about was steel, so Agatha decided to give it to him. She unsheathed her saber and thrust it between him and the door, blocking his path. He paused, calm, and eyed the old, worn blade. For the first time, Agatha glimpsed the slightest semblance of emotion on his face.

"If ya won't pay any attention to my words, I'll give ya somethin' ya can't ignore," Agatha said, knowing the prince wouldn't dare back down from a direct challenge.

Before she could make another move, the Crimson Sun had drawn his own sword and knocked hers away, using the moment of confusion to kick her in the back of the calf and send her to her knees at the bottom of the steps. His blade was at her throat in a heartbeat and Agatha was trying her hardest not to show any sign that she was in pain.

She managed a smirk. "Oh,  _now_  the Prince has finally grown a pair, eh?"

"Shut up,  _Fengoin_ ," Myka growled. "You've been sitting outside this temple every day for weeks now like a sad little puppy. Do you actually think my master would train a pathetic mouse like you? Go back to Anvel or wherever it is you got those rags you're wearing."

"I think your master might wanna replace his precious pupil… if a  _Fengoin_  girl like me knocks 'im on his  _ass,_ " she grunted and rolled away from the prince, grabbing her saber and standing at the ready.

_I knew what was going to come next, but it didn't make it any less painful. Each attack I made on Prince Myka lead to a worse and worse throttling. I took the beating each time but always picked my blade up and taunted Myka to come at me again._

_The prince never failed to take the bait, laughing and throwing the taunts right back at me, and by the thirtieth time he had sent me sprawling to the ground, he finally started to take a little pity on his opponent._

"Go home, Fengoin. I have no wish to kill you," Myka said, turning his back on a bloody and bruised Agatha as she attempted to find her saber buried somewhere in the grass.

Agatha spat. "Always knew ya'd be soft.  _The Crimson Sun of Xhanu_. If ya ask me, if a man needs a stupid nickname to sound scary, he ain't worth the title." She found her weapon and stood, her legs so bruised and beaten she could barely stand. She didn't even notice that the master had been standing on the top of the steps, watching. How long he had been there, she could only guess.

"Prince Myka," he stated, his voice soft and subtly commanding. "You dishonor yourself, and you dishonor me when you turn your blade on an opponent so much weaker than you. The girl is badly hurt."

" _She_  attacked  _me_ , Master Rei," the prince retorted. "And why should I care about the wellbeing of an insolent  _Fengoin_  like her?"

"You are royalty, Myka. Never forget that your actions reflect all of Xhanu. And a  _Fengoin_  is only so within the borders of our nation."

The silver-haired man slowly walked down the steps, his white robe dragging behind him. He was older, but looked like he had been fiercely strong in his prime, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw. The very air around him rang with command and Agatha found herself already scrambling for his approval.

To Agatha he said, "I do find myself curious about a brown-haired girl, clearly northern, dressed as a southerner, attacking my student in the jungle very far away from her home. I admit, I thought you would give up after a few days of waiting outside my temple, yet here you stand. I would ask why you wish for me to train you, but that is clear enough to me. What interests me is how you came to be here in the first place."

Agatha was still in shock that he was addressing her, but she did her best to compose herself, lowering the saber to her side and standing upright before she spoke. "I followed the prince from town…"

"That is not what I mean," the master stated. "Where were you born?"

"Myleria, milord." The word slipped out from old habit and Agatha felt like kicking herself in the head for saying it.

"I am no lord, girl, and neither am I from Myleria. Tell me how a commoner from the north ended up here in Xhanu. You left your home of your own volition?" He spoke as if he already knew the answer, and Agatha had a suspicion that he did.

"No… I was… banished," said Agatha, knowing a lie would not go unnoticed.

"I see. Thievery? Murder? Treason? How does a young girl go about getting banished from a kingdom like Myleria?" Master Rei asked.

Myka was scowling at Agatha from behind his master, his bright red hair falling over his eyes and giving him a sinister look.

"Ya wouldn't believe me if I told ya…"

"I think you should try a man before you judge his beliefs."

"Fine," Agatha said, preparing to be laughed at. "I saw the Queen – Queen Alissa –  _shapeshift_  into a fox when I was little. When she found out I'd seen her, she had the King boot me from the kingdom, simple as that."

To her surprise, Master Rei did not laugh. Instead, he exchanged a glance with the young prince and then gave Agatha a pondering stare. Myka folded his arms, never dropping his gaze.

"So, a magic-wielding queen and a girl who found herself at the wrong place at the wrong time," the master said. "I  _could_  call it coincidence that a girl like that found her way to my temple. I  _could_  send you away and go about my business, train Myka like this was any other day. Yet somehow I fear it would not sit right with me, and the thought of you would keep me up at night for many months to come. It is not every day someone like you is sent to me by the gods. What is your name, my friend?"

"Agatha. Agatha Paddick."

_The master took me into the temple after that, and I began to train with him and the Crimson Sun._

_The prince was not happy about it at first, and he was very vocal about it. Every day it was 'Fengoin this' and 'Fengoin that'. He thought himself so much above me, and for a long time, he was. We often sparred and without fail I would end up on the painful side of his ruby sword; but each blow was a lesson, and I did get better, day by day._

_I practiced constantly in my time with Master Rei. I was afforded more time than Prince Myka ever had. He was, after all, the royal prince of the entire kingdom. All of his time could not be spent on the sword. Mine, however, was consumed by it._

_Master Rei was a ruthless teacher, but he was fair. He always told me my energy and passion were there, but my form was not. I always attacked with my heart and never my head._

"You fight like an Anvel Warrior, Agatha," Master Rei told her. "There is character there, but it will win you no battles. A Xhanu swordsman is cunning as well as strong."

"Well maybe I  _am_  an Anvel Warrior, Master," she retorted. "Ain't nothin' wrong with that."

That had earned her a blow to the back of the head. "Think about your words Agatha Sharptongue. You will learn to speak properly. No pupil of mine will carry with them the vile accent of a Mylerian commoner."

Six months, nine days, and fifteen hours it took for Agatha to beat Prince Myka in single combat. It had been a morning like any other, but Agatha was feeling particularly strong, like the very earth itself was nourishing her with its energy.

Agatha and Myka squared off like usual in the sparring room of the temple, a long, empty chamber with wooden floors and high ceilings. The walls were lined with open square windows in the stone that looked out over the entrance clearing. It was fall and the leaves were turning orange and red, and the sun was setting to cast a brilliant cascade of color into the room.

When Master Rei motioned to begin, Agatha let the Prince attack first, an unusual strategy for her. She blocked his initial set of blows with ease, parrying with as if it were a training exercise. She stepped back and exhaled with each block, letting Myka get comfortable on the offense.

As soon as she saw an opening, she pivoted and thrust at Myka's leg, forcing him to sidestep, and then came at him with a few well-placed slashes to his body. He managed to fend her off, but Agatha could tell that Myka was surprised at how well she planned the move. She was actually  _thinking_  for once.

They circled each other for a moment and then were at it again, both attacking and defending at the same time. The prince was shorter than Agatha by a few inches and had much broader shoulders. Agatha used that to her advantage, staying high and forcing him to stay front-facing instead of the safer sideways stance that their master emphasized.

Myka found himself on the defensive, having to block more than attack, and once she realized she was actually winning, some kind of spark ignited in Agatha that sent her into a frenzy. She hacked away, still keeping her strategy in mind but summoning the strength of the Anvel Warrior inside her to beat down at Myka.

She thought of Borus, pictured his murderer on Myka's shoulders, and let all the rage that had been building in her since she had first left home come pouring out through her weapon.

One final backhanded swing sent Myka reeling back and Agatha lunged for his wrist, batting his sword away. Then she lowered her shoulder and rammed him full on in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground.

The victor placed her sword at the loser's neck, panting and sweating and relishing the look of pure shock upon the prince's face, his drenched red hair sticking to his forehead. Then she offered him a hand.

When he was back on his feet, Myka grabbed his sword wordlessly and left the chamber.

Agatha turned to Master Rei sitting by the wall, wondering if that had actually happened or if this was all just a dream. "Agatha," her master said, his voice calm as stillwater. "You have come a long way since you first came here. Go now to the basement and bathe in the waters that await you there."

Agatha didn't quite understand the command, but she didn't question her master. Rei stood without another word and left her alone in the twilight-filled room. When Agatha followed his instructions, she came upon a room in the basement she had never seen before.

It was a small chamber illuminated only by torchlight, revealing strange foreign markings lining the dusty stone walls. There was a basin carved into the floor with steaming hot water already filling it to the brim. Agatha was immediately drawn to the water, stripping down and lowering herself into its liquid embrace.

She let the warmth engulf her, sending a shiver of delight to every nerve in her body. For a moment she felt as if she was in a dream, floating in an endless oblivion where all the hatred and grief she ever felt were torn away and thrust into the void. For a time, the world melted away for Agatha, and when she emerged she felt completely reborn.

Agatha wasn't sure how long she spent in the bath. It could have been hours or it could have been only minutes, there was no way to be sure. When she finally climbed out, her body was free of all its bumps and bruises. Her limbs felt strong and her head clear. With a renewed sense of purpose, she dried, dressed, and sought her master.

He was meditating in his quarters when she found him, cross-legged, eyes closed. When he heard Agatha enter, he opened one eye and broke into a humongous smile.

"I had a feeling," he said. When Agatha looked confused, he stood and guided her to a large mirror.

Agatha gasped when she saw herself. Her hair was no longer its normal mousy-brow to be sure. In fact, to say it was blonde or yellow would not do it justice; it was  _golden_ , almost glowing in the faint light from the Master's chamber, somehow making Agatha's entire person brighter.

She brought her hands to her head slowly, almost afraid to touch it. Its texture seemed different somehow too, less curly and more wavy, falling all the way past her shoulders to her belly. A thought crossed Agatha's mind as she stared into her own eyes that had never once been there her entire life.  _I look beautiful._

"But Master… I ain't – I mean, I haven't gone through the ritual," she said. Even her voice sounded different, she realized. Rei had been adamant about improving Agatha's speech and she had slowly begun to comply, even subconsciously, annunciating more carefully and cutting out the use of her old Mylerian slang.

Master Rei grunted. "The ritual is a farce, Agatha. Made up by the wealthy of Xhanu to ensure there would always be a working class beneath them. You proved your skill to your master today when you bested one of the most skilled swordsmen in the kingdom. That is enough for the blessing of Teishu in my eyes."

Agatha didn't know what to say, so she continued to stare.

"Has anyone ever told you just who Teishu actually was?" the Master asked.

"A Goddess, from what I understood."

The master shook his head. "Teishu was a woman of flesh and blood, the Empress of Xhanu thousands of years ago. She was what some might call a psychic or a prophet, able to look upon the soul of a person and tell their destiny, their essence… even their future. She shaped the way we view our society and she was the one that blessed the waters that you have just emerged from, water that we use for the Teishu ritual even today."

_A Highborn_ , Agatha thought.

"It is said that Teishu had golden hair herself," Rei continued, fingering a strand of Agatha's hair. "It seems you are chosen to be as important as she was." He chuckled. "Though I do admit, some things really a _re_  coincidence."

Agatha shook her head, suddenly frustrated. "Master, magic has affected me my entire life, magic from some king or queen, alive or dead. I just don't understand  _why._  Where does it come from? Why are some chosen for it, and why are they always royalty? Is it just… random!? Something that always has been and always will be?"

Rei's face grew serious. "I'm afraid I don't know all the answers, young one. But I do believe you will find them. Magic has been a part of human history for a long time, though we have a strange way of acknowledging it. Those who wield it tend to hide it, for fear of prosecution – and those who know of it tend to explain it away or shun it, unable to accept something that they cannot comprehend, and more importantly, unable to accept that they cannot use it. As a result, magic finds its way into myth and legend instead of history, and it eventually fades away from the memory of those that witness it. As for where it all began, I do not know, I only have my theories."

"What theories, Master? I have to find the answers, you said so yourself. If you think you know anything about the Highborn, I need to hear it."

"'Highborn,' yes, a fitting word. The royalty of almost every kingdom in history has some magic bloodline buried somewhere in its past. I have known about it for many years and I admit, it has puzzled me much like it has puzzled you. What I was able to discover was this; magic in humans dates back to one very important event – the disappearance of the spirit of the Earth, Veles."

"Veles was real?" Agatha asked, baffled. The story of the Earth spirit was well known, even in Myleria. Veles was born with the world itself, there to protect every living creature that would come into existence. It was not a god so much as it was a magic entity that lived through all of Earth's organisms, though it could take on its own unique physical form when it wanted to.

"Quite so, Agatha. You should not be surprised. Veles was known to be sighted quite often, actually, in the Eastern and Southern kingdoms of old. A curious spirit who was so enraptured by humans that he sometimes even interacted with them in the ethereal form of some animal or creature. But he vanished very suddenly, into what we now call the Veles Desert and was never spotted again. It was said that a young prince from the North went looking for him thousands of years ago and never returned."

"And you believe that has somethin'…I mean something to do with the Highborn?"

Master Rei nodded. "Listen well Agatha. You must go seek Veles, and you must document your knowledge of what you call the Highborn. I believe you can reveal to the world the secret of magic itself. But you must be devoted, and you must be brave. It will not be an easy journey."

_Master Rei had never spoken truer words._

_That was the beginning of the first drafts of the very book you are reading. I left Xhanu shortly afterwards, equipped with a sword from the Master himself and a saddlebag filled to the brim with parchment and ink._

_As for Myka, he came around before my departure, admitting that I had fought well. I remember him even making a comment about my hair and blushing like a schoolboy; I couldn't help but laugh in his face. Even so, he gave me his white stallion as a token of good will and safe journey, and the steed was my companion for many, many years to come. His name was Gambit and he was by far the greatest mount I ever owned._

_Making it to the Veles Desert proved not to be the difficult part. I was well supplied when I headed northwest from Xhanu and when I came upon the sandy abyss that lay just north of Anvel, my previous home, I felt almost more prepared than I should have._

The Veles Desert was thousands of leagues wide and was known to be a deadly place. If the heat and dehydration didn't kill you, the poisons of the scorpions and venomous snakes surely would.

Agatha left Gambit in the closest town and stocked up on all the food and water she could carry before setting out on foot. The woman had no plans to die out there in the desert – if Veles did not reveal himself to her and she grew low on supplies, she would come back the way she had come to restock for another journey.

However even Agatha underestimated the vastness of the desert and she was far too bold, venturing deeper and deeper, spending days walking until she realized she had reached the point of no return. There had been nothing out in the desert but sand and more sand, not even a plant to siphon water from or a boulder for shade.

On the seventh day within the desert, Agatha decided to head back the way she came, but it had been too long and she had lost her sense of direction. The eighth day was hot and the sun beat down on her relentlessly, eventually pushing her into the sweet relief of unconsciousness.

Agatha was certain she was going to die there that day, but as the thought passed through her fading mind, so did something else. A cold presence loomed over her and she could feel herself being taken away.

She awoke on a ghostly platform staring into an endless void of darkness. A dream, surely, she thought, but then why did she feel so awake and so strong? Was this the afterlife?

Then a light came rushing to her from the void. " _You humans are so fascinating,"_ it cooed.

Before Agatha could ask who was there, a white wisp appeared in front of her. It was amorphous at first but it slowly took shape, growing paws, a tail, and a head until eventually an ethereal cat was standing on the platform with her.

" _I cannot remember the last time I was actually conscious like this. Such a strange feeling. So very fascinating."_ The cat began to circle her, its eyes green and glowing. Its voice was high and shrill and ghostly, yet somehow it still had the bubbly quality of a delighted little girl. Agatha could hear it loud and clear, though the cat's mouth never moved.

"Who are you?" asked Agatha.

" _Oh, come now Agatha Paddick. Why do humans ask questions they already know the answer to? It is so very silly and so very fascinating,"_ the cat giggled.

"Veles," she said in disbelief. "You actually came to me."

The cat faded into nothing and from the darkness a white snake slithered in front of Agatha, staring at her with the same green eyes.  _"Hummmm, yes, I suppose in a way I came, and in another way, I was always there. I couldn't just ignore a human killing herself to find me in the desert, alone. That was so stupid and so fassssssscinating."_

"Always there? What do you mean?"

" _I am with all humans, Agatha Paddick. Ever since the pact,"_ Veles said as it morphed again into a humming bird. " _But I've watched your life in particular for quite some time. It has been very enjoyable, Agatha Paddick, very enjoyable."_

"Pact? Veles, please, tell me your story. Are you responsible for the magic-wielders? Are you… a god?"

" _Oh! So formal! You humans are so fascinating, treating all magic like the work of gods. I am no god, Agatha Paddick, but I am flattered you would think so."_  Veles fluttered around Agatha's head before landing again and sprouting into the form of a monkey. " _Very well! I see no harm in sharing my story with one measly human life. You humans never seem to listen to each other anyway. Let me start at the beginning."_

" _Before, I was a lonely spirit, watching over my lovely children and keeping them safe. I loved my children, I loved them so, but they bored me, Agatha Paddick, they bored me half to death. When humans appeared on Earth, I could see they were different. They were anything_ but  _boring, and they quickly became my favorite children. They were so fascinating, so enjoyable, I could not get enough of them. I watched them whenever I could. I watched them build their cities and make their rules and kill one another, oh, it was such fun, so much more enjoyable than my other children!"_ Veles bounced up and down on his monkey tail.

" _The humans came to know me – 'Veles' they called me, and they searched for me all the time. I had so many other children to watch over so I tried my best to leave the humans be, but I could not seem to stay away, they were just too much fun. Eventually a young prince – Prince Hammet – came to the desert in search of me. I easily evaded him, but my curiosity got the better of me. I let Prince Hammet find me, pretended to be cornered and trapped, and I heard what he had to say. 'Make me immortal,' he demanded of me. 'I want to live forever.'"_ Veles laughed. " _He actually believed he had captured me, Agatha Paddick!"_

The monkey suddenly jumped into the air and disintegrated into the shape of a butterfly which fluttered onto Agatha's arm. It felt cold to the touch.

" _I told the prince I could give him what he wanted but I wanted something in return. I wanted to become one with the humans, now and forever, to form an unbreakable link with them, make them mine. He accepted without hesitation, something that I found fascinating, and the pact was made – I took Prince Hammet's soul and melded it to my own, joining my spirit with that of the humans where I have been ever since, experiencing all that you experience, living millions of human lives at once, each more fascinating than the last. It has been so very enjoyable, Agatha Paddick."_

"And… what became of Hammet?" Agatha asked.

" _Hmm, he joined the ranks of human souls living through me for eternity, just like he wanted,"_ Veles giggled, a haunting sound.

"You… killed him…"

" _So melodramatic,"_ Veles said as the butterfly on Agatha's arm shifted to a lizard. " _One human soul becoming one with a spirit and bonding us forever is nothing like death, Agatha Paddick. You are so fascinating!"_

But Agatha did not see the difference. She was sure that Prince Hammet would say he was not given his part of the deal if he could be asked, although she knew better than to argue the point.

"And the magic that has manifested in our rulers, that's a result of your joining with us?"

" _Yes, indeed, that was something I had not foreseen, I admit. But magic is a powerful force, Agatha Paddick, and it demands a place in the world. Without my physical presence, it was bound to show up somewhere, and the humans were the obvious outlet. I was delighted when the first magic wielding human was born, it was so very fascinating! I considered it my gift to you, and watching what you've done with my gift has been so, so enjoyable…"_

"But why does it only appear in rulers? Shouldn't any human have the right to your gift?"

" _I don't think there is one answer to that question, Agatha Paddick. I choose its wielder, the humans choose its wielder, and the magic chooses its own wielder as well, all at once. The fact that only your royalty has been blessed with it is as much your choice as it is mine!"_

"So you're saying humans have a choice in the matter?"

" _In a way, Agatha Paddick. The humans and I are one, after all, though the collective conscience of the humans is not something that can be swayed through any one source. For as long as humans have had my magic in them, it has belonged to royalty."_

The lizard crawled down from Agatha and grew gradually into a fox. Agatha blinked as memories flooded her mind. A white fox, with glowing green eyes…

" _But it is for the better, don't you agree?"_ said the fox, licking its paws. _"Those already in power will use magic in such fascinating ways, ways that cause little harm. Imagine if a human with absolutely nothing were born with that kind of power. I know the humans. They would use it to kill and manipulate, and they would climb to power with blood on their hands. Either way, the magic ends up belonging to a ruler."_

Agatha pondered on that for a moment. Veles had a point, but somehow it still didn't sit right with her.

"I suppose… But if I might ask, is there any… pattern? Any direction that your magic takes, or any reason for its forms?" asked Agatha.

The fox looked at her, sat back on its haunches, and changed. Suddenly it was a human standing before Agatha with a face she could never mistake – Queen Alissa's face.

" _Magic is like water, Agatha Paddick,"_ Alissa said, stepping towards her with a twinkle in her green eyes. _"It flows through humans and their lifespans, passing from one to another when its wielder dies. As for the form it takes, that's the most fascinating part… even I never know what my magic will do to a human. It depends on the human's heart."_

Alissa smiled and looked down for a second. When her eyes met Agatha's again, they were changed, and the figure before her stood tall and masculine. For an instant she thought Borus was standing there, but after a moment she realized it must be the form of Ramsay the Earthquake.

" _Any number of powers may come to them, more than you could ever imagine. Magic is malleable, Agatha Paddick, like water, it does not keep a constant shape. It is separate from the human but also a part of them and it will bend to their will."_

"I think I understand, but… Veles, us humans have been lucky so far. All the Highborn have either been content with what they have or they haven't had the power needed to seize more. Have you ever thought about what would happen if… if one of the Highborn is  _evil?"_

Veles changed again, this time into a woman Agatha didn't recognize, with long black hair and a slender nose. She wore a shimmering tiara on her head and a black and red dress. " _That's the thing about humans that I find so enjoyable, Agatha Paddick. No human is truly evil. They are such complex creatures, such_ fascinating _creatures. That is why I wanted to be one with them. If my magic ever became something to fear, well then… I believe that would be fun to watch, Agatha Paddick, don't you?"_

Agatha couldn't believe what she was hearing. Veles was much more selfish than she originally thought, seeing this as nothing more than a game for its own amusement. It took all of Agatha's willpower to hold her tongue. She wasn't going to risk angering the spirit that had saved her, and she still had questions besides.

"So when one Highborn dies, another is born…" she pondered aloud. "That means when Queen Alissa is dead, the next magic wielder will appear in some other kingdom. And if it flows like water, then two Highborn will never be alive at the same time, right?"

The woman morphed again, her face turning from beautiful to ferocious in a second. Now Veles was a man with heavy scars lining his face, thick black hair, and golden piercing eyes. He looked at Agatha for a moment, almost appearing surprised. " _I had never considered it, Agatha Paddick. And wouldn't that be fascinating, to have two or even three humans alive at once with my magic in their veins? Like drops of water, the magic would be attracted to itself, and if they ever touched, they would fuse and become one. Oh how enjoyable that would be to watch."_

The scarred man began to pace on the platform. Agatha looked at him uneasily as a chill ran down her spine. She wasn't sure if she understood entirely, but she knew that she didn't like the implications of what he was saying. Multiple Highborn could only mean bad news, especially if one could absorb the power of another like Veles was suggesting.

When he stopped and looked back at her, Veles changed one last time, again into a beautiful young woman. This time her hair was platinum blonde, styled into a single braid that hung over her left shoulder. She wore a shimmering dress, almost as blue as her large gorgeous eyes, with a flowing cape that sparkled behind her as she walked closer on light blue heels. Agatha thought she could see tiny snowflakes dusting the woman's hair.

" _Don't look at me like that, Agatha Paddick. You have nothing to worry about. My magic has always been a river, solid and flowing, and it will remain that way as long as I will it to. Of course, I was just thinking about what would happen if the river split off into separate streams. Multiple bloodlines would receive my magic at the same time, perhaps halfway across the world from one another. What would the humans do then, I wonder?"_

"Nothing good would come of it, I know that much…" answered Agatha.

" _Good, no, nothing good, perhaps you're right, Agatha Paddick."_ The blonde woman looked thoughtful for a moment and then gave Agatha a wicked grin. " _But it would be so terribly_ _ **fascinating**_ _, wouldn't it?"_


	23. Power, Passion, Ploy

Prince Aaron sat in the council room of the castle of Arendelle with his feet propped up and his eyes glazed over, as if staring into an endless void. He spun a pen skillfully around his hand, flicking it with his middle finger and catching it again with thumb and index, deep in thought all the while.

There was something he hated about this room. It reminded him too much of the equivalent chamber in the palace of Calidae, with its large oak table and high-backed, uncomfortable seats. Framed portraits and maps lined the walls and gave the room a stiff, austere atmosphere. The smell of old parchment and dust filled Aaron's nostrils as he sucked in the familiar stale air. Even the window was similar – large, round, and gaudy. Only instead of looking out over the bleak sandy harbor of Astor's capital, this one gave a magnificent view of the snow-capped peaks of Arendelle's mountains. Dawn broke over the horizon as Aaron contemplated the unfairness of a room designed for the powerful to discuss how braver men would die.

Again he flicked the pen.

Aaron Sinclair had called a council meeting much earlier than normal today. He had barely slept, this time due to the itch to report the news his latest vision had revealed. While it was a positive report, Aaron knew that this meeting would not be without negativity. It was well known that there were some in the castle who still considered Aaron a traitor and untrustworthy counselor to Elsa. He took no offense to the weariness and even considered it wise, but it was still very uncomfortable and frustrating for him, especially when all he wanted to do was help. And as Astor loomed closer, his help was needed more and more.

Elsa was the first to arrive for the council meeting, punctual as always. Aaron accidentally sent the pen careening across the room when she walked in, nearly toppling a portrait of Elsa's great grandfather. The queen giggled at him softly as he went to retrieve it, redfaced, though her expression was serious as she took her seat.

"I see you're no longer hindered by A History of Royal Magic," Aaron observed as he sat again. He was excited to see that. Despite Elsa's request to begin training immediately, Aaron had insisted she read the book his mother had left him first.

The night after he had spoken to Anna in the library, Aaron had taken Elsa to start her training, but after only a few basic exercises, he had realized that the queen seemed distracted, almost uninspired. There was something missing. He knew that learning Agatha Paddick's story would help her in more ways than one. Not only was it informative about the Highborn, but it was also simply an inspiring story. It had changed Aaron's life when he read it and he knew it would do the same for Elsa.

"I've finished it. Cover to cover, just like you said," replied Elsa. "I'm so overwhelmed, Aaron, I don't even know how to process it all."

"We can discuss it in detail when we resume your training tonight. I have a feeling you will have improved already," he said hopefully. Elsa didn't seem to hear him, too busy rifling through paperwork, though the distant look on her face was telling that her thoughts were elsewhere. "Agatha was an extraordinary woman, wasn't she? She died in the service of my mother, you knew that right?"

Elsa nodded, discarding a stack of parchment to the side. "The book left off with her journey to Astor, so I had assumed that's where her story ended. You're lucky to have met her."

"To be fair, I was no older than six when she passed away. I do remember her golden hair though. Even as an old wrinkling woman, she still had that golden hair, not a single strand of grey. She used to frighten me and Fi, actually. She would do this thing where she'd push the two of us together by the shoulders and just stare into our faces in total silence. Just when we would get uncomfortable and start fidgeting, she'd laugh and send us on our way. It always unnerved me, but when I was much older and I learned how much of a legend she was, it almost made sense. That's just who she was. No doubt she saw something in us."

The memories came flooding back speaking about her. After Agatha's encounter with the spirit Veles, the woman had found herself back at the edge of the desert where she started, somehow untouched by the heat and fully rested. She was unsure of whether Veles had physically taken her somewhere or if the experience had somehow been in her subconscious, but either way she resolved to make the most of the life she had been given. Ever since that moment, she devoted herself to traveling the world in order to create a timeline and description of every Highborn that had ever lived.

Aaron used to read about the Highborn for hours on end, never able to choose a favorite. There was Myre Sang, the water-walker from the East. Antonio Stonemarsh the mind-reader from the Western Kingdoms. Powers and people of all different shapes and sizes throughout history, and Agatha dug them all up. Some of the Highborn had powers that were even quite bizarre, Aaron recalled, such as Buckley Hightower, a duke in the Southern Isles who had the power to temporarily change a person's face to look like whatever he wished.

"I never dreamed there would be so many different kinds of magic," said Elsa. "It really made me think. I'm happy with how Veles' magic manifested in me."

"It suits you," Aaron agreed. He might have said something about its beauty, but he swallowed the words. Any flirtatious comments he may have made when he first met Elsa suddenly did not seem so appropriate.

Elsa smiled and looked down at her hands, as if she had read Aaron's mind anyway. "I did notice one thing, though. The book made no mention of Alexander, nor the other Highborn you spoke of. The one that Alexander killed. Was it Percy?"

"Percius…" Aaron corrected, stiffening up a bit.

"Right, Anna told me about him. I was a bit confused when I reached the end, and then I noticed those pages have been ripped out, I can even see the frayed edges near the binding. Did you know about that?"

Aaron drummed his fingers against the desk, frowning. "No, I... I didn't." The look Elsa gave him was enough to say she did not believe him. "We can discuss all of this more later," he finished, dropping his gaze.

Elsa looked like she was going to say something in reply when the door opened and the rest of the council began to arrive. The queen gave him a glance from the side of her eyes before turning her attention to the door and Aaron knew she was not going to drop the subject.

Kai was the first to arrive, followed by Desmond Holdt and the captain of the citywatch, Oliver Pointe. Next was Erik Bryne who had been appointed as a representative of the nobility, and Maya Fin who was an elected leader of the common people's safety organization. Lorne Blackwater followed, the admiral of Arendelle's royal navy, a brick of a man with a black mustache as thick and bushy as he was. He had the smell of the sea about him as he passed by Aaron and took a seat, giving him an obvious glare. It was no secret that Blackwater was one of Aaron's most vocal dissenters and Aaron had never liked the man, though he tried to keep their interactions civil.

Lastly, Kristoff sauntered in, making no effort to hide an enormous yawn, and moments later Anna poked her head in. The princess was not necessarily supposed to be at these meetings, but nobody bothered telling her otherwise, knowing it would be a waste of time. Everyone accepted long ago that Princess Anna went where she pleased, and more often than not, she either contributed positively or said nothing at all. Captain Holdt would be glad of that, considering how obnoxious Anna had been when she was younger and would attend the guard training sessions.

"Looks like that's everybody," Elsa began. "I suppose we should begin with this news Aaron summoned us here so early for. Speak your piece, Aaron."

Aaron cleared his throat. "As you all know, I have these… premonitions about the goings on of Astor across the sea." He fumbled to find the right word to use.

"Aye, premonitions," interrupted Lorne Blackwater. "Call it what it is, turncloak. Unnatural visions, brought on by Astor's evil magic, a twisted connection to that twin of yours."

"Watch it, Blackwater," growled Captain Holdt. The captain was looking a bit disgruntled this morning, Aaron noticed, his red hair uncombed and his gruff face lined with exhaustion. "You're in the presence of your queen. The same queen who also possesses this so called evil magic. Besides, who's to say it's the same? The Sinclairs are twins. I had nephews that were twins, and those two brats could've told you where the other was and what they were doing at anytime, anywhere. It's a twin's intuition, if you ask me."

"Piss on that," replied Blackwater. "That uncle of theirs and his fire is just some coincidence, then? That's what he'd like you to believe, I'll tell you that much."

"Enough," Elsa commanded. "Whether or not it's magic is not important, what's important is if it's true. What have you seen, Aaron?"

Aaron saw no reason to try to defend himself. Even he was unsure of what his visions were, truly. He got right to the point. "Ships burning in the harbor of Calidae. My uncle has delayed the attack to recover from it. As far as I can tell, it was a group of rebels who have already been taken out." Aaron decided to leave out the part about how young they were, or the bitter sorrow Sophie had felt for them, a feeling that was still palpable to him.

The council was pleased. Everyone began to murmur to each other at once. "This will give us the much needed time to get things in order," Erik Bryne commented. "However, we must not let ourselves get too comfortable."

"If it's even true at all," said Blackwater. "Surely we aren't just taking this man's word for it, are we, Majesty? Seems to me an easy way to get us to let our guards down."

Aaron knew that Elsa trusted him implicitly, but even she knew his claim required confirmation. "Kai, you still have that man in the Red Bay south of Astor that could confirm this for us? The trader that we convinced to spy for us after he got trapped over there?"

Kai gave a curt nod. "I am to receive word from him soon. Surely he will know of this incident if Aaron tells it true."

"Good. Now that we have a bit more time, I don't want anyone slacking on their duties. We remain alert and prepare, same as before. I will be training with Aaron starting tonight, so please do not call for me in the evenings. Captain Holdt can discuss with Aaron where we will be set up."

The two men nodded and Aaron was pleased to see Blackwater did not speak up again, though the scowl never left his face.

The queen continued. "Next order of business: Kristoff, did you get a chance to speak to Grand Pabbie?"

The mountaineer sat up a bit in surprise, clearly not expecting to be called upon. "Ah, yeah, I visited the trolls a few nights ago."

"And?"

"It's like I said, Elsa – er, Your Majesty. The trolls have a sacred vow not to take part in human wars, period. They can't offer their help even if they wanted to. Grand Pabbie said he would offer you personal counsel if you need it, but that's as far as they'll go. Sorry." He shrank back with a bit of guilt on his face, but Elsa didn't look angry.

"It was worth a shot. Thank you for trying," she said with a nod, and the meeting resumed.

The rest of the time was more or less business as usual. Anna and Maya Finn discussed the safehouse organization while Erik Bryne broke down finances. Elsa had become quite the commanding presence lately in the council room and Aaron found himself noting how different she was now compared to when he first met her, or even when he first washed up in Arendelle. Now, she was more than a pretty face sitting on a throne; she was the leader of a kingdom.

When the meeting was over, Aaron rushed down to the barracks with Captain Holdt to prepare a place for Elsa's training. He and Captain Holdt decided on clearing out an old unused sparring room that had been turned into a storage area. The room was perfect once it was rid of all its junk – open, isolated, and quiet, with plenty of equipment nearby and even a window to let the room breathe.

Despite his confidence in fighting, he was nervous. It wasn't that he had no experience teaching; he had trained many recruits in Astor throughout his days, many of whom had praised his effectiveness, boasting to the others that they had been taught by the White Panther himself.

But this was entirely different. This would not be a simple courtyard sword session with Sophie or a bout in the fighting rings of Calidae.

This was _Elsa._

* * *

 

After the council meeting was over, Elsa asked for Anna and Kristoff to stay behind. Once the last council member shut the door and left the three of them alone, they all let out a silent sigh of relief. It seemed like an eternity since the last time they had shared a moment of peace as a family without one of them being pulled away by one duty or another. Elsa's demeanor instantly shifted from commanding queen to flustered older sister as she retook her seat.

"You have no idea how much I miss you both," she said.

Anna came over and put a hand on her sister's shoulder. "We miss you, too. What's going on? You were looking at Aaron funny that whole meeting. And I don't mean in the usual way," she teased.

"He's hiding something from me," the queen said, putting her head into her hands. " _Again_. That man has to be the record holder for the largest amount of secrets held by one person. I have to admit, I'm sick of the 'mysterious prince' game he's playing. I just want him to be straight with me. Luckily, the guy is an awful liar and I'm getting pretty good at reading him."

"You don't think it's anything… you know, bad, do you?" asked Anna.

"No. It's just Aaron being Aaron. Whatever he's hiding, I don't think it will harm us. It just irks me."

Kristoff looked skeptical. "No offense to the guy, but the last time he had a big secret, it turned out to be that he was planning to kill you and decided not to. I think we need to figure it out. What is it about? Maybe Anna and I can get it out of him if you can't."

Elsa filled Anna and Kristoff in on everything she knew – Agatha's story, Veles and the Highborn, the timeline, and the missing pages from the book. Anna and Kristoff listened intently, the princess becoming wide-eyed at the part about Veles, as if she were a little girl again listening to Gerda tell her a bedtime story.

"The missing pages are right at the end," Elsa ended with. "When I mentioned Percius, Aaron acted funny. Why would Agatha leave out information about Alexander and Percius, the first two Highborn ever to be born at the same time?"

"Maybe they were about you," Kristoff suggested. "Maybe he didn't like what it said about you and didn't want you to see it."

Elsa shook her head. "Agatha died when I was very young, she wouldn't have known about me yet. But she did know Alexander, presumably, seeing as how she was in service of his sister-in-law, Queen Alma."

"That was Aaron's and Sophie's mother, right?" asked Anna, coming to a realization. "Aaron's clearly hiding information about Alexander! Elsa, this is really suspicious."

"Agreed," said Elsa. "But I don't want either of you doing anything quite yet. I am training with Aaron tonight and I'll see what he says. I promise to keep you updated."

Anna's face was still lined with worry when the three of them parted ways, but the mood was somewhat balanced out by Kristoff's carefree attitude. "Don't worry Elsa. If Aaron is planning anything suspicious, I know a certain reindeer that would love a good midnight snack made of prince," he said as he left, giving Elsa a wink. She scoffed at the notion of Sven being anything but docile and friendly, but was thankful that Kristoff was not quite as dramatic as his betrothed.

When Elsa was finally alone, she took a moment to collect her thoughts in the rare moment of quiet. As she absentmindedly gazed around the room, her eyes fell upon a painting on the wall depicting a desert landscape. The colors were a nice shade of yellow and red that blended into a horizon of rocky plateaus and sandy cliffs. Elsa thought it was quite nice until she looked closer and saw the title: _The Jagged Hills of Astor_.

_How have I never noticed this before?_ Elsa wondered. She immediately reached up and unhooked the painting from the wall, blowing the dust off. It was decently sized, a few feet wide and tall, but it wasn't heavy, and Elsa knew what she had to do.

Moments later, the window flew open with a howl as a magic wind tore into the sky sending the painting whirling through the air like a discus. It climbed higher and higher and when the queen was satisfied with the distance, she clenched a fist to freeze the frame in a solid block before shattering it into a million icy pieces. They fell like snowflakes into the courtyard below where a guard happened to be patrolling by. He looked around bewildered and when he found the window where Elsa was standing, she quickly shut it and turned her back.

The queen smiled in satisfaction as she exited the council room, humming.

* * *

 

"Don't say that you big jerk!" Anna shoved Kristoff to the side of the hallway.

The big man giggled. "I'm just saying. It wasn't your best moment."

Anna didn't laugh. She hated when Kristoff talked about Hans and the night she had met him after Elsa's coronation. "You weren't even there. You don't know what I was feeling or why. I think it's actually very understandable why I decided to marry him."

The subject had come up because they had passed a suit of armor that Anna and Hans had defaced on that night, drawing a goofy face on the helmet with paint from the store rooms. It had never been replaced and remained the only headless suit in the whole castle.

"Understandable? You wanted to marry a guy you had just met that night." Kristoff said it with humor in his voice.

Anna had started off playing mad in a teasing fashion like she often did, but the more she thought about it, the less she was in the mood for jokes. "You weren't there. He was charming. And interesting, and funny. We had fun together that night. More fun than I had ever had since I was a little kid."

Kristoff suddenly wasn't smiling anymore either. "And I'm not those things?"

"No, I don't mean – just drop it, Kristoff."

A scowl crossed Kristoff's face. "He was using you Anna, you know that. I can't believe you would even say something positive about that sociopath."

"I know, Kristoff. I know… but you don't get it. He still broke my heart," Anna said, and in a moment of surprising weakness, even to herself, she couldn't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes no matter how hard she tried.

Kristoff said nothing, but his initial face of sympathy turned to anger after a moment. "I'll leave you to your grief, then. Goodnight." He turned to leave the way they came.

Anna let him go, feeling guilty but knowing it was best to leave him alone. He would never understand how she felt about what happened with Hans. She hated the prince of the Southern Isles in every way, down to her very core, but remembering the night of the coronation still sent a jolt of pain straight to her heart.

It wasn't Hans that she had loved, but the idea of him. No matter how much she did not like it, nothing could change the fact that she felt things about Hans that night that she had still never felt before or after, even for Kristoff. The immediate infatuation, the lovestricken flutter in her belly, the lust. She loved Kristoff, there was no doubt about that, but every girl will always wonder about that prince charming that had been their first love. Hans may not have been what he pretended, but the idea of him – the potential – was always a lingering presence in Anna's thoughts.

As Anna wandered back towards her room, arms crossed and eyes red, she paused by the blue door of one of the guest rooms. _Aaron's room_.

The former prince would be down in the barracks with Elsa right now. Without thinking, Anna grabbed the door handle, wiping away a tear from her cheek. _Locked. Of course._

The princess took a moment to check if any servants were around. The hallway was deserted. Feeling mischievous and seeing an opportunity to take her mind off of Kristoff and Hans, she reached up and pulled a hairpin from her head, sticking her tongue out slightly as she shoved it into the lock and began to jiggle it around.

Unlocking locked doors was one of the few things Anna was an absolute expert on. Growing up alone in a castle with so many locked doors and so many secrets had made sure of that. When she was younger, it was the bane of Gerda's existence trying to keep the princess from getting into certain areas of the castle. That was how she had gotten drunk the first time; when she was seventeen, she had made her way into the castle's wine storage. Her mother had been outraged, but her father could not seem to stop chuckling when they were in the middle of punishing her.

It only took a couple of minutes for the lock on Aaron's door to click and for the door to slowly swing open. Anna crept inside and crouched like a ninja for no reason other than to look cool in her own mind.

When she turned on the lights she was disappointed to see absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Not that she really even knew what she was looking for, but still. Aaron's clothes were neatly folded, his books put up nicely, and his bed was even made. It was an almost painfully boring room, especially for someone like Aaron.

The former prince didn't have very many things of his own, as he had come to Arendelle essentially with nothing but the clothes on his back. Anna started to look around anyway. If he had the missing pages from A History of Royal Magic with him, they must be somewhere in this room.

Carefully she started going through the books on his nightstand and desk, flipping through them hoping something would fall out. No luck. She searched under the bed, in the curtains, and behind the mirror. Nothing.

Then she checked the closet. Clothes were hanging properly from the hooks but when she pushed them away, a chest was revealed at the back wall with a shattered lock. _I forgot about this…_

Aaron did bring some things with him from Astor, Anna remembered, and this was how he had transported them. Luckily, Elsa had broken the lock so she had no tr ouble getting into it. 

The chest was filled to the brim with random objects and scrolls, some of which Anna did not even recognize. She dug through maps and vials of strange liquid, more books, and some metal contraption that Anna could only describe as a "doohickey." She saw a single piece of parchment and her heart jumped for a second, but it turned out to just be a handwritten note in elegant cursive.

_This note hereby proclaims that Aaron Sinclair – Son of King Harold Sinclair and Queen Alma Sinclair, Prince of Astor and the White Panther of Calidae – has officially bested his twin Princess Sophie Sinclair in single combat on this day the twenty third of February, 1858. Enjoy it while it lasts._

_-Fi_

Anna frowned when she read the signature. No matter how much Aaron would deny it, being on the opposite side of his twin was tearing him up inside. She thought about what it would be like if Elsa were her enemy in this war and she shook her head in disgust. 

Putting aside the note and her feelings, Anna kept digging. At the very bottom of the chest was a dagger covered by a beautiful leather sheath. A ruby encrusted the hilt and the flame sigil of Astor was engraved on the face of the leather. 

Anna ran her hand along it, amused when she remembered that its name was Belle. It was a monstrous thing despite its namesake, nearly a foot long with a very bulky holster. She pulled the blade out, being super careful. Anna knew she did not have the most dexterous hands and she imagined it would be hard to explain a giant gash on her hand to Aaron if he were to notice.

The blade was light, but the sheath felt strange in her hand. Anna placed the dagger on the ground and brought the sheath out into the light. She couldn't see anything inside, so she stuck a finger in and felt around the edges. She felt a crease in the leather and after a minute of wiggling it around, she was able to pull it back and reveal a hidden pocket. 

After another minute of awkward tugging inside the sheath, she found herself pulling out a small stack of precisely folded, worn pieces of paper. 

_Predictable,_ thought the princess as she laid out the papers on Aaron's desk. They were filled to the brim with thousands of words, handwritten in black ink, front and back. It was only five pages but Anna knew it would take her a while to read it all. 

The princess quickly placed everything back in Aaron's chest exactly how she remembered it, extinguished the lights, double checked the room, and then scampered back to her own chambers with the pages in hand. 

When she was done reading, she was shocked and more than a little confused. The first thing that ran through her mind was _Elsa needs to know_.

* * *

 

Elsa was feeling good as she made her way down to meet Aaron for their first real training session. 

When they had tried it before, she had been nervous, not truly knowing if fighting was something she wanted to do. She had kept on thinking about the attack on the North Mountain when she had fought against the Weselton bodyguards. Was she a monster if she fought? Was it truly fair to use her powers with force against others with nothing but weapons, following the orders of a madman? Or was this different, for the greater good? 

Now she knew. To fight did not mean to slaughter. It did not even have to mean to kill. Agatha would have told her that it was her responsibility to defend herself and her people, no matter what her own opinion of violence was. Alexander certainly would not give her a choice. 

The room that Aaron had chosen was far away from the others, down a dimly lit corridor. Elsa swooped around the stone corridor with confidence, her white cloak swirling as she walked. She had tied her hair back with beret but kept it unbraided. She wore a black-clothed, low cut top and skin tight leggings that allowed her to move freely. She had also found the most comfortable pair of boots she owned – an ugly flat soled pair she used to use for riding horses, as well as her old worn out riding gloves. Elsa knew Aaron would not have her using magic – at least not tonight.

When she entered, the room was chilly. _Perfect_ , Elsa thought as she hung her cloak. 

Aaron was standing in the middle of the dimly lit room, a practice blade in hand. It was a fairly large chamber with an open space at the center, lined with stacks of various weapons and military odds and ends near the walls. The moon cast the most significant light from the high windows that lined the outermost wall, creating a blue-white tint that made Aaron look almost eerie. 

He was wearing a black vest with a long sleeved undershirt and loose-fitting cloth trousers tucked into a pair of beaten-up boots. His beard was trimmed but thicker than before, making him look like one of Kristoff's ice harvesters. If Elsa didn't know any better, she would never guess the man standing there had been a prince.

Next to him was a practice dummy, a lame looking thing that was nothing more than a sack of rice that Captain Holdt had built upon a wooden stick that stood about six feet high. "Good evening," he said, not taking his eyes off the dummy. 

Elsa approached hesitantly. "Good evening. Has… that dummy said something to offend you?" 

Aaron scoffed, looking at her for the first time. "What if I told you it did?" 

"Then I'd blast it all the way to Astor," Elsa said, stepping closer, folding her hands behind her back. "Nobody is allowed to offend you except me. And maybe Anna, if I gave her permission." 

Aaron smiled and looked down at his fake blade. "How gallant of you. But no magic will leave your fingertips while you train with me. I cannot teach you something I can't do myself." He tapped the wooden sword. "This is what I know."

Elsa looked around her and spotted a similar practice sword sitting upon a rack. She took it in her hand and faced Aaron confidently, mostly in jest. "Show me, then." 

Aaron smirked and made a movement so quick Elsa hardly saw it before the blade in her hand was flipping around in the air, landing gracefully in Aaron's left hand. 

The queen stared at her untouched wrist. It had been as gentle as if he had coaxed it from her.

"An amusing joke, Elsa. The Snow Queen of Arendelle, the most powerful sorceress on the planet, fighting with a wooden stick. What a waste that would be." Aaron threw the two swords to the wall and took Elsa by the wrists. "These will be your weapons," he said, and Elsa nodded.

"First, we need to talk," she said.

Aaron agreed and a moment later, the two were sitting face to face upon a couple of the wooden barrels nearby. Elsa drew up her legs and sat cross-legged. "It feels strange. To know things about myself, and my powers. I never thought I would."

"Is it a relief?"

"No, strangely. Veles is a haunting thing. I can't seem to accept the fact that he is part of human-kind. Do you think it's listening to us speak, right now?"

Aaron considered it for a moment. "I would think he is experiencing this conversation in one way or another. But remember Elsa, the magic you bear belongs to you. It originally belonged to Veles, but it has come to you for a reason."

"And what reason is that?" 

Aaron shrugged. "Destiny, perhaps, if you believe in that sort of thing. I have always wondered, though, if the Highborn would be able to speak to Veles if they tried. You are connected to him more strongly than anyone else through the magic you both bear."

"Wouldn't hurt to try," said Elsa, closing her eyes and concentrating. She reached into her mind and tapped into her powers. She could feel the magic, the cold, the emotion, the power. It all swirled around her being like a flurry of snow; but when she looked around for another consciousness, she found none. After a few minutes, it seemed hopeless.

"No use," Elsa said. "For the better, maybe. I'm not sure what I would say to Veles, anyway. Somehow I do not think it would be helpful to me."

"It makes no difference. Veles may have caused the current situation, but he is content to let it play out and watch in amusement. It will all come down to you and Alexander and you must be the one to come out on top. Three Highborn came into the world when there has only ever been room for one." 

Elsa knew that was true. She remembered the missing pages from the book and she considered asking again, but Aaron saw the thought lingering on her tongue and beat her to the punch. "About the missing pages," he said. "I know you are curious, but I need you to know that it's just something personal. If it were important for the upcoming events, I would tell you, you know that. As it stands, though, it's just water under the bridge. We have to look forward, not back. Understand?" 

Elsa did understand and she believed his words, though that did not sate her burning curiosity. "Okay. Maybe one day you will tell me."

Aaron looked sad as he replied, "Perhaps." It was a tone that Elsa took to really mean "probably not." 

Then it was time to begin. 

As soon as the conversation was over and it was time to get down to business, Aaron immediately became the White Panther. His entire demeanor shifted to that of a battle commander, and Elsa felt like she was all of a sudden a henchman in Astor's army. 

Aaron had her stand and went over various forms and stances, went over sparring techniques, and had her try a few simple punches. Aaron was stern with Elsa and wasn't afraid to touch her, move her into the correct position or guide her movements with a firm hand. 

Elsa found herself blushing a bit at one point but forced herself to concentrate on the tasks at hand, listening intently and following directions like she had done with all of her tutors growing up. Though mathematics and geometry had come much easier to Elsa than the things Aaron taught her now.

"Feet planted, eyes forward. Fists formed properly. Now punch. Good," guided Aaron. "Now the dummy." 

Elsa stood before the dummy which was raised even taller than she was. She repeated the process, sending her fist into the bag of rice with a quick exhale. Aaron shook his head. "No. Try again." He gave no further instruction, so Elsa simply squared up and punched the dummy again a bit harder. 

"Still no. Again." 

Elsa huffed and punched the dummy as hard as she could, letting out an involuntary grunt. 

Aaron sighed. "You were doing so well earlier. What happened? You need to try harder."

Elsa was annoyed now. "What am I doing wrong?" 

"You tell me," said Aaron. "If I have to tell you every little thing about fighting, you'll never stand a chance against Alexander. I can't be there to guide your every move. Think for yourself. Now punch." She did. Again, he spurned her. 

The queen went from annoyed to frustrated. She punched the dummy over and over while Aaron criticized. Eventually, she let form go out the window and just began beating the thing until the wood that stood it up splintered and it started to lean backwards. 

Aaron still was not satisfied. "Come on Elsa. How can I train you if you won't apply yourself!? Alexander will be frying you and serving you at Astor's next banquet as an 'Arendelle delicacy.'" 

Elsa was taken aback at her mentor's shift in tone. She did not understand why he was being so picky all of a sudden. _I suppose the Panther has awakened_ , she thought. 

The queen continued to wail on the dummy until her knuckles began to bruise, but nothing she did made Aaron happy. With each blow she grunted and her grunts turned into shouts and her shouts turned to screeching cries of fury as Aaron continued to pile on the harsh words.

"Wrong! Still wrong! Why did I ever decide to train you? All of your potential, wasted! I had believed in you. I thought maybe you'd even be talented. What a stupid thought. You're just a weak queen after all. You'll never protect Arendelle, you'll never save us, yourself, Anna, or your parent's legacy. All you've done has been for NOTHING -!" 

A blast shook the room. All of Elsa's pent up frustration, fear, and anger was suddenly on her fingertips. Wind, snow, ice, and electricity all formed together around Elsa's arm. The dummy Elsa had been destroying with her fists was suddenly engulfed in a blast of cold energy that lit the room in a white flash and launched dummy to the far side of the wall, sending it straight through the brick with a crash. 

Aaron was sent flying as well, landing head-first into the piles of junk to Elsa's right with a cry of surprise. The entire room seemed to vibrate as Elsa stood there in the wake of the explosion, panting, her fist outstretched. The blast had knocked her at least five feet back as well, but she had somehow managed to stay on her legs. The south wall was completely collapsed and there was a mass of solid, jagged ice forming along the floor from the hole to Elsa's feet. It slowly creeped outward towards the walls with a crackle as everything went still again.

Aaron fumbled to his feet, buried in a pile of random objects. He rubbed his head and stared at the place where the wall used to be. Then he looked at Elsa.

The queen wasn't sure how she should be reacting, so she simply stared back at him, traces of her anger still lingering in her expression. She grabbed her clenched fist and realized that tiny blue sparks were dancing around it. She fully expected to be chastised by her new teacher, but instead, Aaron smiled.

"Now –" he said as he stood up and recovered. As he panted, his breath was visible in the now frost-covered room. " _Now_ we're getting somewhere."


	24. A Stab in the Heart

_It’s beautiful,_ thought Elsa as she gazed into the deep blue of the energy above her palm. Sparks mingled with one another like dancers at a ball, reflecting shimmering light off of the queen’s eyes. _Though if my power is beauty and danger, surely this is the danger._

It had taken hours of practice for her to be able to summon the electricity from will. At first, Elsa was convinced it was a fluke that she could never reproduce, brought on by her anger and Aaron’s provocation. However, the prince was adamant that it was a part of her magic that she could control, and it had turned out he was right. This morning, in the tranquility of the castle gardens, she had worked for hours in solitude in order to tap into that energy again; and she had succeeded. With nothing but the flowers and crisp morning dew as her witness, Elsa was creating lightning.

It had been a dirty trick for Aaron to purposely anger her like that. And an obvious one as well, now that Elsa was able to think clearly. She was embarrassed she had fallen for the taunting and let her emotions go so haywire, although the result was worth it. Though, she reminded herself, losing control again could not be an option. With all that was on the line, her emotions must be kept in check.

Elsa focused, inhaled, and let the power vibrate from her fingertips. A tiny maelstrom appeared in her hand, sending blue bolts of electricity from finger to finger and up and down her arm. Just like her ice, it felt cold on her skin.

Suddenly there were footsteps disturbing the brittle leaves of the walkway behind her and Elsa whirled, preparing to send away whoever was there to disturb her. When she saw the strawberry locks of her sister, she relaxed.

“Elsa,” Anna breathed, stopping to catch her breath. “There you are. I need to tell you….something.” The younger sister paused when she spotted the blue sparks still lingering around Elsa’s left hand. “That’s…new.”

Elsa sent the sparks away with a wave. “Y-yeah…I’m still surprising myself with my powers, even after all these years,” Elsa said. “What’s going on? You look troubled.”

Anna held up a stack of parchment. “Don’t be mad, but… I did some snooping.”

Elsa raised an eyebrow as she walked over to her. “What kind of snooping?”

“Just look. These are the missing pages from A History of Royal Magic. I found them in Aaron’s room.”

“You went into his _room?_ ” Elsa said, exasperated. Despite her tone, she began looking through the pages hungrily. Whatever Anna had done could not be undone, she figured, and the mystery of what those pages contained was too great to resist.

“I know, I know,” Anna said. “Privacy and guest right and blah blah blah… but Aaron can’t be keeping secrets from us at a time like this, and I knew _you’d_ never do anything about it. Anyway, what I found out wasn’t exactly incriminating…it is juicy, though.”

Elsa saw what she meant. The first page had a drawing of a beautiful queen in a red and black dress wearing a flame-jeweled tiara. She had a slender nose and jet black hair that fell straight to her shoulders. Her skin was pale and her eyebrows thin and defined. Elsa knew she looked familiar and when she read the caption, it made sense why. _Queen Alma Sung-Sinclair – The Highborn of Silikwood/Astor._

_Of course,_ Elsa thought. _Just add the glasses and she’s the spitting image of Sophie._

“The third Highborn was not a man named Percius like Aaron said,” Anna stated. “It was Aaron and Sophie’s mother. Look, it says right here: she had the gift of life, just like Aaron said Percius had.”

Elsa studied the woman in the picture, intrigued. “Why would Aaron hide this? I don’t understand… If I had known his mother was a Highborn… Oh god, this makes Alexander’s murder of Alma that much more devastating. It makes so much sense. He stole her power that day and changed everything. It was all because of Alma.”

“Exactly,” Anna agreed. “But there’s even more to it than that. Agatha writes about Alexander as well, but she mentions nothing of his magic. It looks like she didn’t have a clue he was a Highborn, even when she died. Apparently Alma was a princess born in the East who came to Astor on a wedding pact with Harold, the future king of Astor and Alexander’s older brother. Agatha tagged along with her as her advisor. It’s all interesting, but I see no reason Aaron would hide it all from us. What difference does it make if Alma was the Highborn?”

“I’m not sure,” said Elsa. “I have to assume there’s more to the story. I’ll confront him about it when I feel the time is right.” The queen looked up at her sister and jabbed a finger to her chest. “ _But_ you’ll be the one facing his wrath when he finds out how I got these pages.”

Anna sighed. “Fair enough. I suppose I have to pay for my ninja ways one way or the other.” She turned away. “Now that that’s solved, I have to go apologize to Kristoff before he takes off for the mountains to mope…”

“Apologize for what?” Elsa asked. It wasn’t like the couple to argue and she couldn’t even remember the last time Anna ever needed to apologize to Kristoff. It was usually the other way around.

“We got in a fight. He started talking about Hans and I kinda… got too upset. It’ll be fine.”

Elsa was surprised to hear that. All Anna ever seemed to do was talk about how much she hated the prince from the Southern Isles. Suddenly, something occurred to her. “You realize we may have to face him again. He may be commanding part of Astor’s army and…”

“I know,” Anna cut her off abruptly, taking Elsa aback. “If I ever see Hans, I know just what I’d like to say to him. Before this is all over, he’ll know what it’s like to be stabbed in the heart.”

Then Anna took off back toward the castle, leaving Elsa befuddled and alone again surrounded by the quiet, gentle blowing of leaves.

_Stabbed in the heart?_ the queen wondered. _What was all that about?_

* * *

 

In the thick shroud of darkness the night provided, an Astor soldier marched stolidly through the halls of the palace of Calidae. He wore his full armor with a black helm concealing his face and with every step he clanked like an iron giant. The torchlight from the walls shimmered across the flame sigil on his chest as he made his way deeper into the dark maze.

The soldier came to a metal door down an isolated hallway where another man in the same armor was leaning against the wall, his spear and shield resting uselessly next to him along with his helm. “What is it?” the other soldier asked, looking annoyed that his shift was being interrupted by a visitor.

“I’m here to take your place for the night,” bellowed the helmed man. His voice was deep and he towered over the other soldier by at least a foot. When the guard looked skeptical, the helmed man added, “Orders from the Black Swan herself. She’s changing the rotation after what happened to the fleet.”

The man paused for a moment with a clenched jaw, then shrugged and picked up his arms, clearly in no mood to protest a night off. “Just don’t let anything happen. Things’re on edge ‘round here. I ain’t lookin’ to be burned alive like those fools down there.”

The big soldier grunted as the other handed him his keys and departed. Then he took his place by the door and waited.

It was near three in the morning when the man made his move, sliding the keys into the metal door and slipping inside. Stone steps led down to the dungeons, long and lonely. The only noise was the metal clinking of the man’s armor. When he got to the bottom, he lit a lantern resting by the cells and raised it to the metal bars, revealing five terrified faces.

It was dark and isolated in this dungeon and the cells were all empty but for this one. These were special prison cells on the inside of the castle, away from the larger prison that stood on its own near the harbor. Only men meant for execution were held within these walls.

“You’re not the usual guard,” one of the prisoners squeaked. “Where’d he go? Is it time? Are we going to die!?” He was young and scrawny, more boy than man. All five of them looked hopelessly young and scared, garbed in nothing but a cloth around their waists and dirt smeared across their bodies.

The helmed man held up a key. “Listen carefully and don’t ask questions. I’m letting you free. You will come with me to a passage that leads to the sewers and escape. Then you will leave Astor forever. Make no noise and move as quickly as possible.”

The five prisoners looked at one another incredulous as the man swung open the metal cage with a _clang._ None of them moved until he added, “This is your one chance. Either stay and be burned or come with me and live.”

Hesitantly, they filed out one by one and the man in the helm lead them to the back of the dungeon. It was dark and filthy within the stone hallway and the air was ripe with the scent of blood and waste. At the furthest wall, water was leaking through the stone onto the floor where the room met the castle foundation. The armor-clad man lifted his lantern to inspect a large stone slab resting flush against the wall. “Help me move this,” he said.

It took three of them to finally inch the stone back from the wall, revealing a hole just big enough for a person to squeeze through. It was pitch black and smelled foul and the prisoners wretched at the sight.

“You want us to crawl through there?” one of them asked. The one next to him hit him in the chest.

“We don’t have a choice, idiot. We’re being let free. Just be grateful.”

The shortest of the bunch, a pudgy guy with a round face turned to the armored man and said, “W-why are you doing this? Did _she_ send you? Who are you?”

The soldier didn’t waste a moment. He snatched the prisoner by the collar and lifted him so they were face to helm. “I said not to ask questions, kid.” Then he shoved him away and addressed all five. “Get out of here quickly and leave the kingdom. You’ll be poor and marked as deserters, but at least you’ll be alive. You lot destroyed half of Astor’s fleet. Alexander plans to burn you in the morning in front of the entire army. Your crimes can never be forgiven here. I offer you an out. Take it or leave it.”

“But we only did it because…” the pudgy prisoner sniffled, tears welling up in his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter why you did it. Just go.”

With one last lingering stare, the first of the prisoners climbed through the hole. When they were gone, the Astor soldier used all his might to slide the stone slab back into place. Then he returned to his station and stood diligently for the rest of his shift, never taking his helm off even for a moment. _Good luck, boys_ he thought. _You’re going to need it._

* * *

 

 Princess Sophie stood on the battlements of the castle, watching over her men during their combat rounds for the morning. The day was hot and the courtyard was alive with the sound of steel. The Black Swan watched over the ranks of soldiers like a hawk, carefully assessing their each and every move.

_Time for me to make my entrance. The terrifying Black Swan, here to ruin the day again,_ she thought as she began her descent into the courtyard.

In truth, Sophie had always hated her nickname. She had never understood why Aaron had earned the name _panther_ while she was stuck with _swan._ Their fighting styles had always been different, with Sophie as the more aggressive one and Aaron preferring defense and patience. There was no doubt that their gender was the only reason she was labeled a swan – elegant and fragile, two qualities that Sophie despised, especially as a fighter. Aaron had always said it was because she was beautiful but deadly when angered, but for some reason she could never quite accept that. It always felt like their names should be reversed.

Sophie entered the courtyard with a command. “Soldiers! Fall in!”

As the men fell into their ranks, she paced back and forth. There were at least a hundred of them all standing at attention as their princess inspected them. She was garnered in her black officer’s uniform, the flame sigil shining proudly on her left breast and her hair was held back by a bright red beret. Her right hand was glued to the hilt of her shortsword, making her look all that much more commanding.

“Listen up! Lord Alexander is quite displeased with the progress we have been making. He feels that there is a displaced sense of loyalty among this army. Now, as Astor heads into its golden age, I expect you all to be behind it in full force, with your hearts all in. Is that too much to ask?”

“No sir!” came the simultaneous response.

“Good! Then you will follow your commanders and do what they ask of you. And you will improve yourselves every day until our ships set sail for Arendelle. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir!”

“Back to work,” Sophie ended and the soldiers saluted all at once. She paused in her pacing, turned to her right, and pointed, singling out a faceless soldier buried in the ranks. “You! Come with me.”

The soldier she pointed to was much taller than the others around him and some of his peers stole a glance at him as if to say, “you’re in for it now.” As the ranks collapsed back into their units, he followed his princess into the barracks as the others looked on in pity.

Sophie led the soldier past the armory and down a quiet hallway. A few other soldiers were standing around who saluted the princess as she passed. Sophie paid them no mind as she made her way deeper until they were out of sight of everybody. She glanced around to make sure the coast was clear, then pulled the helmed soldier into one of the broom closets close by.

“Has it been done, Vash?” she asked.

The soldier pulled off his helm, revealing his dark, handsome face. He was bald and masculine, with a square jaw and deep brown eyes. “Yes. I freed the recruits last night. They were confused and looked about ready to piss themselves, but they went.”

“Good…Hopefully those idiots will be out of Astor by nightfall and we can pretend this never happened,” Sophie said, as relief washed over her.

“I know that you felt it was your duty to save them, my lady. But won’t Alexander be even more angry to see they escaped?” asked Vash.

“ _Don’t_ call me that. And perhaps. But what will he do about it? I know my uncle. He’ll have a little temper tantrum and then will move on. He’s not stupid. He knows that he cannot waste his time searching for a few boys when he still has an invasion to get underway. The longer we wait, the more Arendelle can do to stop us.”

“Don’t remind me,” said Vash as his eyes glazed over. “I’m as good as dead once we set sail. I’m no fighter, Sophie, you know that. I’m just a tavern keeper. I may be big and strong but there’s not a killing bone in my body.”

“Stop that!” ordered Sophie. She was sick of Vash’s pessimism and she couldn’t take the thought of him giving into weakness.

When Alexander had asked her to bring him Vasheer Maljahr for questioning, she had known her friend was as good as dead. The barkeep had been secretly distributing a cure for the Disease with her help for years. As soon as the order was given, she came to Vash in secret and told him he needed to disappear. Reluctantly, the man had done just that, disposing of everything he owned and leaving his tavern, the Sundown, to rot.

Sophie knew he wouldn’t be safe anywhere else so she convinced him to join Astor’s military under a completely new name. It wasn’t hard to enlist him as a foreign recruit. She was hiding him in plain sight, in a way, and with Vash disguised as a soldier, she now could keep an eye on him day and night, although she had lost her most valuable man on the streets of the city. Luckily, he had been extremely useful in this plot to free the recruits that were set for execution.

“I have a plan, Vash. I wouldn’t have brought you into the army just to send you to die. My father’s illness has been leveling out. He’s still sick, but he isn’t getting worse. I’ve decided to bring him with us when we set sail. I’m appointing you to be his caretaker. You won’t even see a second of combat. All you need to do is take care of my father.”

“What? King Harold is in no condition to sail to the Northern Kingdoms in his condition. Especially to war!” Vash protested.

“The alternative is to leave him here, which I just can’t do. There’s no one I trust here now that Aaron is gone. He will be better off with me. With you.”

Vash remained quiet for a moment. Sophie knew he was relieved to not have to fight, although he wouldn’t admit it. “Okay,” he said. “I will look after him. And you.”

Sophie smiled and patted him on the chest. “How cute. You actually think I need your protection.”

Vash grinned sheepishly down at her. “Just because you don’t need it doesn’t mean I won’t offer it.”

Sophie adjusted her glasses and averted her eyes. “I just want you safe, Vash. I promise I’ll be alright, and when all of this is over we can…we can…”

_Claaaaang! Claaaaang! Claaaaang!_

The sound of the belltower seemed to shake the closet. Those bells were never rung unless something big was happening. Endless possibilities flashed through Sophie’s mind. Were they under attack? Was there a ship spotting? Sophie and Vash exchanged an anxious look before running out to see what was going on. When they ran out into the courtyard, Sophie’s heart sank upon seeing what the ruckus was all about.

Alexander stood on the battlements with a row of five prisoners bound and gagged, forced to their knees at spearpoint. All of them were sobbing and shaking uncontrollably, any trace of hope dashed from their eyes. None were older than nineteen years of age.

The rest of the soldiers were lined up below in the courtyard, watching their lord with stoic faces, trying desperately to distance themselves from the sight above.

“Behold!” screamed Alexander. “The traitors who sabotaged my army! _These_ are the cowards who sought to set back my invasion!”

Sophie looked up at Vash who was staring in disbelief. “They…those idiots…they didn’t make it…” he muttered.

“This is what happens to betrayers!” Alexander boomed. His golden eyes and scars were apparent even from a distance and Sophie could almost see the magic swelling up inside of him. “ _This_ is what happens when you stand in my way. Let all bear witness today what befalls those who cross MY POWER!”

There was a rush of heat and a giant _whoosh_. Then all they heard were the screams.


	25. And Now...

Elsa awoke in the blackness before dawn broke, sore in places she didn't even know existed.

Today was the beginning of the third week of her training, some of the most grueling weeks of the young queen's life. Each morning Elsa had to force herself from the comfort of her bed before first light so that she could fit in all her duties before she met Aaron in the armory for their daily sessions. At first it had been torturous to rise so early, but with each day it grew a little more bearable than the last, and finally Elsa was starting to reap the rewards of her labor.

Elsa's body had become her top priority. Her days began with stretches; every limb, every muscle, every appendage was given attention. Her morning routine was a series of unnatural poses in front of the fireplace of her chambers as she pushed her flexibility to its limits. On this morning, she reached down with her feet together and her legs straight and surprised herself by placing both palms on the floor with ease. _Would you look at that,_ she thought. _I'm actually limber again._

Elsa had always been athletically inclined, despite what some might think of their pale, thin queen. When she was younger she had been quite the horseback-rider and ice-skater, though her talents went largely unnoticed for years as she practiced in solitude. There was a time when she would sneak out in the middle of the night to skate around the frozen pond near the town square, drawing figure-eights and performing leaping spins in the moonlight.

After the Great Thaw, she and Anna had skated together quite often, but Elsa would always hold back her skill because of her little sister's competitive nature. Anna always seemed to take others being better than her as some kind of challenge and Elsa was never one to show her little sister up. In secret, she could have skated circles around anyone at court.

Although the queen had never even been close to _this_ in-shape. Her muscles were beginning to look toned, especially her core and her legs, and it took twice as long for her to run out of breathe. Aaron's training after the first day had focused on endurance and stamina. "An exhausted fighter is a dead fighter," he had told her.

Elsa had agreed, though her body did not for the first few days. It had taken quite a few hot baths and shoulder massages from Anna for her body to stop aching with every step, but eventually the pain had gone away and she found that she actually felt better after sessions, almost revitalized by the thought that she was making progress.

Aaron never mentioned anything about the massive blast Elsa had unleashed at their first session. The day afterward, Elsa had arrived to the sparring room to see the debris completely cleaned up and the hole in the wall covered by stacks of boxes and barrels. " _Now we're getting somewhere,"_ she remembered Aaron saying. Elsa didn't quite understand what his plan was, but she trusted it was working. Her magic, much like her body, was growing stronger.

Usually it took some planning and thought to make her magic act exactly the way she wanted, but lately it felt so natural it almost happened automatically. Elsa noticed herself using magic for every little task, dressing herself and opening doors with gusts of cold wind. There were little things she could do now that she had never even thought of before, such as pulling objects to her hand with a magic gale, and every once in a while, Elsa would accidentally leave behind a trail of ice throughout the hallways, much to the dismay of the servants who had slipped and fallen on more than one occasion.

What little time Elsa spent with Aaron outside of the training room felt strangely normal and comforting, but during their sessions he treated her as his master had treated him when he was a boy. Aaron had been trained by a swordsman from Xhanu that came to Astor with Agatha, and the customs of the East were ingrained in his teaching style. He was strict and commanding, and sometimes overly harsh, Elsa had to admit, but she knew that was exactly what she needed.

On their second week together, Aaron and Elsa began to spar one-on-one. He was almost certainly holding back against her, but even so Elsa found herself on her backside with the wind thrust from her lungs more than she would have liked. Stubbornness, pride, and admittedly the notion of wiping Aaron's smug grin off of his face kept her going, and it was beginning to pay off. She could fend him off for quite a while longer than she used to be able to, though the result was always the same – with Elsa staring at the ceiling, panting like a dog, with Aaron smiling down at her with a hand outstretched. "That was better. On your feet and we'll try it again." And so they did.

Despite the small progress, Elsa was no great fighter yet. As she watched Captian Holdt in the training yard showing a relatively new soldier how to properly hold his shield, intrusive thoughts came to her about how little time she had. Agatha had taken _years_ to become a competent fighter and she was no less than a prodigy. What could Elsa hope to accomplish in a few short months? Was she any better than this soldier in front of her now, fumbling with his armor, in way above his head? Aaron assured her that the Astor invasion was stunted for quite a while, but no matter how long they took, she would never become a master by the time of her inevitable encounter with Alexander.

 _I must do what I can,_ she thought, pushing away all doubts. _Any training is better than none at all._

Today, Aaron wanted to meet earlier than normal. When he passed Elsa in front of the barracks on his way to speak with Lorne Blackwater, he mentioned something about an idea that had struck him the night before, something "revolutionary." Elsa didn't bother to ask what it was, knowing he would disclose it eventually, and she was somewhat distracted. Despite the breakthrough, he looked stressed out and Elsa couldn't help but wonder if that was her fault.

The queen had not yet mentioned the missing pages from A History of Royal Magic that Anna had found and she often wondered if Aaron noticed they were gone from his room. His silence implied his ignorance, but Elsa could not be sure. It had never felt like the right time to bring it up and each session Elsa was more focused on learning than she was on Aaron's endless secrets. Plus, she had to admit she was nervous to face his wroth when he discovered the invasion of privacy.

 _Ugh, this is silly,_ she thought as she descended the spiraling steps of the castle two-by-two. _I'm the_ queen _for god's sake. I shouldn't be afraid of him. Today is the day I ask._

Elsa arrived before her teacher to the sparring room, which she found to be a bit unusual. Her hair was braided and she was dressed in a tight-fitting black suit that she had Gerda make for her. It was built plainly for comfort and not fashion, though it gave Elsa a certain air of confidence when she wore it to sessions, feeling as though she looked more like a warrior and less like a queen. She took the opportunity to loosen up and she set up a dummy to wallop while she waited.

With planted feet, she delivered a few solid shots to the dummy with proper form, trying to remember everything Aaron would say about technique. It felt like she did it correctly, but somehow she knew Aaron would disagree.

With a sigh of frustration, she lowered her fists and studied the dummy for a moment. It looked pitiful to her, its padded frame worn and faded from heavy use. It was hopeless to think that this was what she was practicing on before facing a man who could kill her with the flick of his hand.

 _I have that power as well,_ she thought. _It could all be over in an instant. Just one wrong move is all it would take._

Putting it that way, it seemed hopeless. As she thought about how much was out of her control here, a deep frustration grew inside her. The bubbling annoyance became rage in a sudden outburst and without thinking, Elsa held out her hand and blasted the dummy with an icy gale, crumbling it to frozen shards.

It was just then that Aaron entered the room to the sight of the queen standing before her kill. "I see we're off to a good start today," he said with only the slightest pause. Usually he would have delivered that line with humor in his voice but Elsa noticed it was replaced with something like irritation.

"I'm…sorry, I just…" Elsa stammered. She had gone from terrifying and strong to awkward and clumsy in a moment. Attempting to play the moment down, she ended up shrugging and saying, "It looked at me funny."

The sun was shining in from the sparring room's high window, giving the place a different vibe than what Elsa was used to, as their sessions were normally at night. Dust particles floated in and out of the light and made Aaron's thick dark hair look lighter, almost brown.

"There's really no need to apologize," he said nonchalantly as he came over and began shuffling the shards of ice across the floor with his feet. "Everything here is your property, after all. If I could do the things you do, I'd have brought this castle to a pile of icy rubble by now. Sometimes I think the world is lucky _I_ wasn't the Highborn in my family."

For some reason, that comment made Elsa think. When she looked at him, she often thought of his sister and mother and how much he resembled them. Alma was a Highborn, making her children the product of magic, and somehow it had affected them. Their mental connection could only have come as a side-effect of Veles' magic. Though not Highborn themselves, Aaron and Sophie were no average humans, that much was certain.

Aaron and Sophie both were so impressively athletic that it almost seemed impossible. She recalled the duel she witnessed in the courtyard when the twins first stayed in Arendelle. They were lightning fast, acting and reacting almost before her eyes could process what was happening. Looking back, it was almost certain that the two held back against anyone they fought against, save for each other. They were unnaturally intuitive, as well, almost as if they could see a few seconds into the future.

Aaron had displayed his abilities by accident on more than one occasion, preemptively catching things before they even began to fall and guessing perfectly when somebody was coming around a corner. It was hard to explain, but Aaron just _knew_ things. It was like he could predict what people would do before they decided to do it themselves.

As the former prince began to talk about what he wanted to go over today, Elsa cut him off, a strange impulse taking over her vocal chords. "What is Sophie up to?" she asked, and Aaron eyed her curiously.

"I haven't had a vision in several days, but it seems she is hard at work getting the Astor army back on track. As for Alexander…" he paused, gathering thoughts. Elsa could practically see some memory racing by in his eyes. "He's been going about his ways. The sooner this is over, the better."

The way he said that gave Elsa chills. _The poor guy shoulders so many burdens alone. I wish he would let me in._ "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Of course not."

"Where do your visions come from? Why do you suppose you have this power that other twins don't?" asked Elsa. It was bait, a way to entice Aaron into a conversation about his parents, but he didn't bite as expected. Aaron was noticeably taken off guard by the question, and he stopped what he was doing and sat on a barrel as if he knew this conversation would not be a short one.

"We have spoken about this before, Elsa. I don't really know. Perhaps it is Veles' magic, some sort of… 'spill-over' from Alexander to us. Does it really matter, though?"

"I've been thinking about that," Elsa said, putting a finger to her mouth and furrowing her brow. "It seems strange that the magic, if linked to a family tree, would manifest in Alexander and his niece and nephew, but not his brother."

Aaron folded his arms. "I suppose that is a bit odd. My father has never displayed any kind of magical ability as far as I can tell. But what can I say? Magic works in mysterious ways, Elsa. We both know that. Some things can't be explained."

 _Enough of this,_ thought Elsa. _It's time I accept that he won't open up about anything unless directly confronted. I'm just going to say it._ She sighed and stepped towards him. "There's something I've been meaning to say, but before I do, I want you to know that it wasn't my intention to bring it up this way."

Aaron raised one eyebrow, but when he said nothing, Elsa went on. "I know your mother was a Highborn, Aaron."

The man stared, words visibly catching in his throat. "You…what?"

"Anna found the missing pages from Agatha's book in your room about Alma. She was just like me. I don't know why you never told me. And before you say it, I know, it was wrong to invade your privacy, but…you know Anna, she didn't like that you were keeping secrets again and…"

" _Secrets?"_ Aaron suddenly stood, the anger plain on his face. "I didn't realize my personal belongings, my keepsakes, my LIFE was a _secret._ She took it from my room? Why? Because _you_ thought I was keeping something from you?" The outburst left Elsa speechless and she could do nothing but stare.

"Am I that untrustworthy?" he went on. "There are many things in this world I can forgive, Elsa, but when it comes to my mother and my privacy, you're crossing a line. _"_

Even though she had anticipated this, Elsa was surprised by his reaction to the point of not being able to defend herself. Aaron was seething, pacing back and forth.

Elsa managed to stammer out, "I'm sorry, Aaron, it's not like we –"

"STOP! Just stop," Aaron halted, pointing an accusing finger right at Elsa's face. "I don't need to hear your justifications." He shook his head in disgust. "I can't _believe_ you people. Every one of you. To think about all I've done for Arendelle and its people at this point is almost _laughable_. I saved your life three years ago when my sister wanted to kill you on the rooftop. I kept your secret and saved your kingdom from ruin. I warned you and then _abandoned_ my people trying to keep the peace, protecting you. I came to your aid in your trial when your people were stupidly willing to throw you away like the cowards they are. And worst of all, I betrayed my own _family_. I turned my back on them. For the sake of Arendelle. For the sake of _YOU."_ The final word rattled off the stone walls, sharp and abrupt.

Elsa felt tiny in that moment, and goosebumps covered her body. She averted her eyes, but Aaron was not done.

"And now here I am. Teaching you. Protecting you. Trying to help…and I'm treated with scorn and suspicion by _everyone_ here. I was willing to look past it because I figured at the _very least,_ you and Anna believed in me and trusted me, and that's _all_ I cared about. But I guess that's not even true. Well I'm done. I'm done trying to impress, I'm done doing these things for your sake when you don't even appreciate them. I mean nothing to you! You all are just using me and I've been stupid enough to give you my support for _nothing._ Well you can face Alexander on your own if that's the way it is. I'll just get out of your way." A calm darkness settled on Aaron's face as he said the last words and he turned away.

Elsa was on the verge of tears and could hardly breathe. Hearing Aaron say all that he had done for her out loud made her emotions stir in a way she had felt only once before. She was reminded of when she first met him all those years ago, when his hair was combed and his face was clean-shaven and smiling. How stupid had she been for pushing him away all this time.

The feelings she had back then had never really gone away, they had just been pushed to the side, something she had practiced and told herself to do for years. Now it was finally coming back. This was the consequences of _conceal, don't feel._

Now Aaron was walking away and he was almost at the door. She had to stop him, she had to say something, but for a moment she wasn't sure the words even existed.

"You're wrong!" she finally shouted, and Aaron whirled angrily before the door, looking down at Elsa ten feet away where the floor sloped to the training space.

"About _what?_ Please, enlighten me, Your Majesty, please tell me what I've done t–"

"I love you."

The words lingered as if there were an echo in the room, pounding into their eardrums. Elsa felt as if someone else had spoken them, the idea foreign even to her. _Am I just now realizing this myself?_ she thought.

Aaron stared, his expression morphing from anger to surprise. The words were already out there and Elsa knew there was no going back. A confidence surged through her as she took a step towards the man.

"I always have. You don't mean nothing to me. You could not _be_ more wrong about that, Aaron. Everything you have done for me… _everything_ means more to me than you could ever know. I haven't shown it because I was afraid to…and didn't think I should."

Aaron blinked, his previous anger melting off of his face, but he still said nothing. Elsa could tell there was distrust in his eyes and she knew he didn't believe her. _And why should he? As far as he's concerned I'm just trying to get him to stick around. I do need him after all. But not in the way he thinks._

"I know, it seems impossible. I _tried_ not to love you, but that's not how these things work. No apology could make up for how all of this has happened. But I'm truly, truly sorry…" Elsa's eyes grew wet, but her expression remained strong as she kept her gaze locked with Aaron's, blue colliding with green, and the room seemed to turn into an ocean around them.

Aaron's silence continued. It was as if they were the only two people in the universe, as if the entire cosmos were being defined in that moment. As the silence stretched, Elsa began to panic. _He isn't saying anything. Why…?_

Finally, Aaron looked up at nothing and took a deep breath. "You don't know what you're saying, Elsa." And then he was gone.

Elsa stood there staring at the door for a long time after it closed. Her body grew numb and her mind was blank as if what had just happened had erased everything else. As the realization hit that she may have just doomed everyone, it was like the ocean collapsed in on her and swept her away, swallowing her into an endless oblivion where not even her magic was enough to save her.


	26. Alexander

_It always started the same way…_

_But tonight, this was no nightmare. This was something more._

It was as though Aaron were taken from his body and thrust into his memories, reliving the night in vivid detail. Every smell, every sound, every feeling was as fresh as it had been all those years ago.

He was thirteen, standing before the wooden door of his mother's study, staring at the dim light shining through the crack. He was nervous, and when he felt the object he was holding behind his back, he remembered why.

It was a small pot filled with soil where a flower had been grown and subsequently died, the red petals wilted to brown and the stem turned brittle and sunken.

How often had he thought about this flower? If only he had taken better care of it, maybe what happened next would have never come to pass.

A soft humming penetrated the door and filled Aaron's ears. It was soothing, but Aaron knew better than to let the false sense of security take over. He knocked, his body moving on its own, and there was the response from that beautiful voice that always made his stomach drop.

"Who's there?"

"It's just me, Mother." Aaron entered the room apprehensively. The warmth from the fireplace was cozy and there was the slightest odor of smoke and perfume in the air, mingling into a strange, complex atmosphere. His mother sat beside the fire in a rocking chair, the large purple tome they both knew so well open on her lap. She turned to face her son, her kind, beautiful face attempting a stern expression.

"Aaron? What are you doing out of bed? It's late and you have an early morning tomorrow." She peered behind him. "What's that?"

Aaron revealed the wilted plant slowly and got the exact look of disapproval he was expecting.

"That flower was a gift," his mother spurned. "How could you forget to water it after all the trouble I went through to bring it back from the Salikwood?" She placed the book on the side table next to her and turned her attention to her son.

"I know, I'm sorry… I've just been so busy with all that father has me doing and sword-fighting with Fi, and I just came back one night and… it was wilted." He frowned. "But I was hoping maybe… Can you make it better?" The Prince didn't give his mother a chance to answer before adding in, "I promise I won't let it die again! Just this once!"

Alma smiled, not truly angry with him but simply trying to teach him responsibility. "Alright. Just this once. But remember, this is our little secret. Bring it here," she gestured and Aaron held it out for her.

Alma placed a hand gingerly over the petal of the flower and stroked it. She took a deep breath and white sparkles appeared on her fingertips, dancing onto the plant and the soil below it, filling it with life. Suddenly the stem was green again and the plant gradually grew taller. The petals of the flower darkened to the deep red they once were. All it took was a few seconds and the flower was healthy, restored perfectly to its former beauty. Aaron smiled ecstatically, marveling at the magic his mother possessed.

"Now don't let it happen again," Alma told him. "Off to bed now."

Aaron nodded, but when he turned to leave he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Oh, Uncle," was all the response he could think to say.

Alma's eyes shot to the doorway where Alexander Sinclair was standing, one hand on the door and a look of pure shock plastered on his face. His eyes were a light green, almost like Aaron's, and his hair was long and straight falling to his shoulders. He was taller and lankier than his older brother, with a more serious face and demeanor.

"The gift…" he whispered in his deep voice, eyes boring into the flower in Aaron's hands, slowly drifting to the queen. "Alma… you have it as well."

The woman stood, facing her brother-in-law, attempting to mask the panic in her voice. "Alexander! I didn't see you there. How long…" she stopped herself, realizing it was no use to play dumb. "Please, you… you were never supposed to know." She clenched her fists. "Nobody was."

" _He_ knew," Alexander said as he took a step inside the room and thrust a finger at Aaron. The fireplace crackled and a wave of heat washed over the room as he crossed the threshold. "And I assume Harold did as well. Why… why would you not tell me, of all people?" He sounded genuinely hurt, and at the time, Aaron could not figure out why.

"Harold is my husband," Alma retorted sternly. "And the twins are my children. Nobody else knows, and it's better that way. I've kept it a secret all of my life, and now I expect you to keep it as well. Please, don't be angry. It was nothing against you." Alma did not sound pleading, but demanding.

"Angry? You misunderstand me, Alma… How could I be angry? I'm… I'm happy!" Alexander beamed. It was the happiest look Aaron could remember seeing on his uncle, who was usually as stiff as an icicle. Alma looked confused, so he elaborated. "Don't you get it? This is a sign! Your magic and mine… It's bringing us together. It's been there all along and we just never saw it."

When Alma realized where he was going with this, she went ghost white. "Alexander, wait… It isn't… T-this doesn't mean…" She was so flustered she could barely put a sentence together, but the man didn't let her even try. He walked over to her and looked deeply into her eyes, taking her hands into his own.

"You chose wrong. This is proof. _This_ has always been destined. You and I, together, ruling Astor with our magic. Fire and life. Life and death. Destruction and creation. It _must_ be. This is no mere coincidence." There was a passion on Alexander's face that was making Aaron uncomfortable, as if the man had just discovered the meaning of life. The little prince took a large step back.

"Stop it!" Alma barked, ripping her hands away from him. "You're speaking nonsense, Alexander. This was over years and years ago when I married Harold and you know it. What makes you think it's okay to bring this up now? Especially in front of Aaron? Now let's just pretend you never saw anything and _move on_."

Those last words cut Alexander deep, even Aaron could see that. His face fell in an instant and his shoulders slumped, as though his soul had just shattered into a million tiny pieces.

The fireplace was roaring high now and Aaron pulled at his damp collar as he began to sweat. He wanted nothing more than to run back to his room, but something made him stay, a gut instinct telling him he should. He inched closer to the fireplace and clutched the flower pot a little tighter. An ember crackled from the fire with a pop and landed near his foot. He stamped it out in a panic.

"I just don't understand…" Alexander whispered. "How can you not see it? How can you not see how much I love you…?"

Alma remained unfazed, crossing her arms in equal parts confidence and insecurity. "I do see it. I'm sorry Alexander. We have talked about this. I never meant to hurt you, but… _Harold_ is my husband and that will never change. So please leave me and my family be."

 _My family._ Aaron remembered thinking those words were strange, as if Alexander were not a part of their family. Was he not?

A long moment passed as the man eyed Alma up and down, pain clear in his eyes, and then he turned toward the door looking utterly dejected. He took one step and then halted, turning his chin towards Aaron.

"Aaron… My boy." He came closer. For some reason that made Aaron nervous.

"You were supposed to be mine, do you know that?" he asked the boy with a gentle voice. Aaron's eyes flickered to his mother. She said nothing, but her eyes were trained on Alexander with a sense of primal protection. "You should have been mine. My little boy. My son. But your mother made a mistake. And look what's become of you."

Aaron didn't know what to say. "What do you mean…?"

"Your Father has never been there for you… it was always _me_ , ever since you were a babe, _I_ was the one looking out for you while Harold ignored you. Don't you see that?"

Some instinct made Aaron quick to come to his father's defense. "My father is a king. He's been ruling Astor. He is just busy. He never…"

Alexander sighed and suddenly Aaron felt an unnaturally warm hand on his shoulder. "You are so naïve. I suppose that's to be expected. You will understand one day just how wrong things went for you because of your foolish parents."

The insult to his parents pushed Aaron to anger and the urge to hit his uncle came upon him, but he knew better. Instead, he batted away Alexander's hand upon his shoulder in frustration. The act took the man by surprise and in response, a burst of flame shot from his palm, scorching Aaron through his cloth shirt. Aaron let out a yelp and backed away, clutching the burn. He let the flower pot in his hands drop to the floor and shatter, sending dirt and clay shards in every direction across the wooden floor.

Alexander was equally taken aback. He pulled his hand away and clenched it into a tight fist. "Aaron, I…I-m sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Before the man could finish, Alma had come between the two, fully engaged by her motherly instincts. "You need to go, Alexander," she demanded.

The man looked offended. "Alma, you know I would never –"

"Just GO!"

The fireplace surged high on the last word and all three of them glanced uneasily at it. Despite the heat, Alma stood her ground by the fireplace in front of Aaron who was furiously rubbing his shoulder, tears welling up in his eyes from the pain.

Some combination of the pain from the burn, the tension in the room, and the fact that he was already upset made Aaron speak up. "At least my father would never do that. And at least Mother's magic fixes things. All you can do is hurt people. At least my father isn't some… some _freak_!"

Alexander looked even more heartbroken hearing that than he was before. "I'm not a freak… I'm not a _freak_ … I just can't..." The fireplace raged, sending small red embers into the air around them. Aaron began to cough. "Alma, you don't think I'm…" Alexander couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

Alma paid the fire no mind. "That's enough Alexander! Just leave. Stop trying to change what you have no control over! You have to accept the way things are." Alexander looked as though he was being physically beaten by her words. He held his hands to his head and closed his eyes tight, something horrible building up inside of him.

"I'm not… I'm just tyring to… Ahhh…"

The fire roared, but Alma did not stop. "Harold is _my_ husband. Aaron is _my_ son. He has been raised to know right from wrong and he can see through you. So just go. I will _never love you!"_

Alexander was pushed beyond his limit by that and he finally broke. His scream was so loud that it seemed to shake the whole palace. He directed it at the ceiling, with balled fists at his side, every muscle in his body tensing. It was a sound that would haunt Aaron forever, full of all the rage, anguish, and heartbreak of a thousand kingdoms.

As he roared, the fireplace expelled its pent up energy, and the flames burst from the wall with a giant _crash_ that shook the castle's foundation. Alma was bathed in the flames from the eruption from head to toe, her dress catching first, and then the rest of her.

Aaron fell backwards, just barely avoiding the fire himself, helpless but to watch his queen mother flail in agony and scream. He was too shocked to make a sound himself.

When Alexander finally came back to reality after his mental outburst, he did not seem to process what was happening in front of him right away. As the realization struck that the woman he loved was burning right in front of him, resignation took him over. He awkwardly fumbled backwards from the woman in horror. When Aaron stood to try to run to her, Alexander shoved him away. "No! Get back!"

Suddenly Aaron was surrounded by a half-circle of magical flame that trapped him near the wall, and now he was truly helpless.

Alexander looked entirely subdued as he watched Alma who collapsed to the floor, completely unrecognizable now as her skin was incinerated. Aaron could see the emotional transformation occur in his uncle in that quick moment. There was a morbid acceptance on his face as if the man knew that his life had just changed completely.

Then the magic flow began, and with it came the madness.

There was a flash and blinding light began to radiate from Alma, creating a stream that shot towards Alexander, making him glow like a god. His face twisted into a series of pained expressions and he clutched his head and squeezed his eyes shut. "GRAAAHHH!"

Alma's screams faded as her life finally left her body, and all Aaron could do was close his eyes and cry. Soon, the room was filled with the sounds of the crackling of flames and disjointed, sporadic cackles escaping from Alexander's throat. The man fell to his knees and rocked back and forth as the magic bombarded his mind.

The door flew open suddenly and Aaron could just barely make out the figure of his sister through the smoke. "Mother! Aaron!" Sophie shouted in panicked confusion. She covered her mouth and coughed as she noticed Alexander. "Uncle! What is _happening_!?"

"Fi!" Aaron shouted, momentarily finding his voice from concern for his twin. "Get out of here! Just run!" But Sophie was too entranced by the sight to move.

Alexander didn't even seem to notice the appearance of his niece. He began to cackle at the top of his lungs now, completely lost to the rest of the world. "HA HA HA – AHAH! – AHAHAHAAAA!"

Then he began to claw at his own face. From his fingertips, bursts of flame jutted out, whipping across his cheeks and forehead and sizzling them down to the bone. As his face burned from his own magic, Alma's healing magic flowed through him, renewing the skin instantly whenever a fresh patch sloughed off his skull from the heat. The man's face fell apart piece by piece and then was reconstructed simultaneously, but the cackling was never once interrupted.

"HAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAHAHAHAHAAA!"

The moment seemed to last forever. Sophie stood at the door utterly horrified as she realized where her mother was, and eventually Alma's body, exhausted of every resource it once had, finally faded away to ash and disappeared into the smoky air, not a single trace remaining.

The fireplace had turned into a smoky abyss in the wall now, but Aaron could hear something stirring inside of it. He could just barely make out the glowing embers through the greyness – and they were moving. A low rumble emanated from the wall and Aaron realized that the glow was no longer from hot embers; it was from a pair of eyes.

A giant, burning hand emerged from the smoke, made of rock and ash and fire. Behind it, a golem began to crawl towards the howling Alexander, its body being pieced together as it went by magic, fire and stone alike, and it took the shape of a giant beast seeking its master as it growled. Sophie was screaming Aaron's name, but he could do nothing but watch the events in front of him unfold, completely mystified.

"HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAaaaa…" Alexander was looking skyward, his face completely unrecognizable and hideous, deep lacerations masking his once fair face. His eyes were now glowing golden and transforming into a permanent feature that would forever define him as the Fire Lord of Astor.

Then he collapsed into a heap, his body spent from the magic.

The flames around Aaron dissipated and he bolted to his sister at the opportunity, not even looking twice at the state of Alexander or the monster he had spawned, and the two of them took off together through the halls of the palace and out the front gates. The guards let them go as they rushed to see what the commotion was all about and the royal twins disappeared into the night.

They ran and ran, never looking back until the palace was far out of sight and the entire city of Calidae seemed far away, where the two of them were the only living things in existence.

Deep in the woods under a moonlit sky, their tears and cries were heard only by the trees as they clung to each other.

And it was there that their new life began.


	27. Only Human

****

_The armory?_ _How in the bloody hell did I get here?_

Aaron had woken up on a bench, fully clothed and surrounded by nothing but armor and shields and pikes. He didn't remember coming here after speaking to Elsa. He didn't remember going to sleep either, and he realized he didn't even know how much time had passed or what time of day it was. Had he even fallen asleep, or was that something else entirely?

Utterly confused, he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. His left shoulder was tingling and he rolled up his sleeve to inspect it. There was a tiny scar there from all those years ago where Alexander had burned him. One little mark, almost unnoticeable. That was all he had been given where his mother had lost her life.

And his uncle had never touched him again after that night.

Aaron sat there for a long time reflecting deep into the recesses of his mind. All he wanted right now was to speak to his mother, his father, his sister; but they were all but lost to him. Even Elsa he had turned his back on, and now he was truly alone in this castle that was not his, in this kingdom he did not call home.

He even missed his uncle. Not the Fire Lord of Astor, but Alexander Sinclair, the man he had been before, only existing in Aaron's childhood memories like a dream that went on for years. He had been so quiet and sincere with no malice in his eyes besides that which might have been suppressed deep down inside of him. But any anger had always come second to Aaron and Sophie.

Alexander had raised the twins as if they were his own. Until that night that threw him down his current path, Aaron truly believed that he had loved them.

_I've failed all of them,_ thought Aaron. _What am I supposed to do now?_

The door to the armory swung open with a clank and Aaron jumped. He expected to see Captain Holdt and just as he was preparing to explain why he was hanging out in the armory at whatever hour it must be, Kristoff appeared, dragging behind him a large cart carrying a metal box about the height of a person.

The mountain man didn't notice Aaron as he hauled the cart to a wall with a grunt. When he turned around, he yelped in surprise. "Son of a bitch, you scared me! What are you doing in here?"

Aaron had no real answer. "I, uh… was inspecting the blades for the Captain. They… look good." He made no effort to move, still slightly in a daze.

Kristoff clearly didn't believe him and did not look too pleased to see him. _No doubt he spoke to Elsa. I wonder what she told him…?_

"Uh huh. Well enough sneaking around, alright? One of these days I might actually slug you in the face." With that, Kristoff turned to untie the giant box from the cart, uninterested in conversation.

"You too, then?" Aaron asked with a sigh. "I don't even know why I'm here."

"As in, _here_ here?" Kristoff asked as he untied the final rope with a grunt.

"No, nevermind. I have to go," said Aaron as he stood to leave.

Kristoff stopped what he was doing and turned around, finally giving Aaron his full attention. "Hang on fancy-pants. You want to talk, so let's talk. Sit down." Kristoff gestured to the bench and folded his arms. Aaron was slightly intimidated by the bigger man despite the fact that he could probably throw the mountain man across the room if he tried.

"I know something happened with you and Elsa. I don't know details, but I just know. Or at least Anna does. Elsa's been trying to act all business, but she's clearly upset. So am I going to have to teach you a lesson here or what?" He said it with a smile, as both men knew that a fight between them could only go one way.

Aaron plopped back down. "If Elsa is upset, it's no fault of mine. Or maybe it is, I don't know anymore. Ever since I've come here, I've been confused about everything."

"Seems to me we've got a pretty clear objective. Save Arendelle, beat your crazy uncle, live happily ever after. What's confusing you?"

"You really don't know the half of it, Kristoff. Nobody does." Kristoff simply stared at him as if waiting for him to say more. Aaron conceded. "I'm not the same person I used to be, and I'm not sure if that's good or bad. I've changed so much and I'm trying to do the right thing here, but for me, there doesn't seem to _be_ a right thing. Nobody seems to want me to be here, nobody seems to want my help. And with all the pressure on me and how I feel for Elsa, it's just way too much…"

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. "So this _does_ have to do with how you and Elsa feel for each other. I had a feeling."

Aaron could never begin to explain all the rest that came with it, so he didn't bother trying. "In part, yes. Elsa told me she loved me, and I had no idea what to do or say to that, so I just…left."

To Aaron's surprise, Kristoff burst into a hearty laughter. "You're serious? That is really not what I expected to hear. The great Aaron Sinclair, scared of a woman. Hahahaha!"

Aaron rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the advice, Baron Bjorgman." He slipped in the title simply because he knew the blonde man hated it.

Kristoff did not seem to mind. He came closer and clapped a hand on Aaron's shoulder. "No, you don't get it! Here I was thinking something really bad happened. I thought that you had been informing on us or worse. I mean, how could mister perfect cause any trouble otherwise?"

"The hell do you mean by that?"

Kristoff shrugged. "No offense, but I always thought of you as this do-no-wrong prince who had everything, who was _good_ at everything. You're the best fighter, the best speaker, you seem to know everything and everyone. I was always jealous of you. I mean you should hear the way Anna goes on about you, you're her hero."

Aaron was quite surprised to hear that. _Is that really how she sees me?_

"So hearing this is kind of refreshing. It just shows me that you're only human, just like the rest of us. And you have no idea how to handle love, either." He folded his arms again. "As for Elsa, I'm not the person to ask for advice. She's always been difficult for me to figure out, even though I consider her family. Let's just say she's a lot more… complicated than Anna. I also can't say whether or not I support you two getting involved with each other with all that's going on. That's a tough situation."

Aaron silently agreed, although he felt a bit better about it now that he knew his thoughts were mirrored by Kristoff. "I blew up on her, and it wasn't fair," he said. "Either way I need to speak to her. Elsa is our only chance, and time is running out."

"Good to hear you're still with us," Kristoff said, looking noticeably relieved. "We do need you. And we want you here, despite whatever has you thinking otherwise. As for all of this stuff about you changing, I will say this: I didn't know you before you showed up on that sad little boat and warned us about the war. So to me, this Aaron is the only Aaron. Whatever you were before, I don't give a damn about. I know you worked for you uncle and I realize you probably did some pretty bad things. But it doesn't matter to me now since you're here, trying to do good, helping us. Understand?"

Aaron nodded. "Thank you, Kristoff. That means a lot." The blonde man turned back to the large metal box and began working on sliding it off of the cart. Aaron jumped in and helped and in a matter of minutes, they had lowered it to the floor. "What's in this thing, anyway?"

Kristoff patted the box proudly. "I'll show you!" He produced a large key from his trousers and took the lock off from the side of the case, swinging open the top.

Inside was the most beautiful set of armor Aaron had ever seen. It was shimmering gold in color with a faint hint of light blue that reflected off the emeralds encrusted deep in the metal. The set was simple and light, with an open faced helm that was designed more like a crown visor, a large blue gem decorating the front face. The arm and leg guards were silvery mail and the front plate was embroidered with the symbol of Arendelle, a blue flower surrounded by snowflakes. It looked to be built for maneuverability, with the absence of boots, shin plates, or gauntlets, and the only heavy plating guarded the neck and chest.

"Elsa had it made, courtesy of the trolls," Kristoff stated proudly. "It's made from a special metal only they can mine. The emeralds were Elsa's touch. They're actually made from Queensice."

Aaron marveled at the work of art, surprised Elsa had made no mention of this to him. "When Arendelle sees their Queen fighting in that, no man will be without a weapon," he said. Looking at the armor gave Aaron a renewed sense of hope. Elsa was taking this seriously and she was going to fight, with or without him. Suddenly the thought of her going into battle without him at her side was unthinkable. His mind was made up.

"We had to fit it right, so I've actually already seen her wearing it." Kristoff let out a whistle. "She sure is a beauty." He suddenly went red. "The armor, that is. It's my masterpiece."

Aaron smirked. "You should be proud. Now, I need to go find Elsa. There's a lot I need to say." He turned to leave but paused to ask one more thing.

"Kristoff, you do trust me in this war, right?"

Kristoff leaned against the metal box. "Of course I do. Now don't make me regret saying that."

* * *

Aaron found that Elsa was not in any of her usual spots. Only after some interrogation of a particularly difficult magical snowman did he find out that the Queen was at work in her father's study.

Aaron made his way through the castle hallways, a tight knot lodged solidly in his stomach. He came upon the door and realized that this was the very room he had first met the Queen of Arendelle. That only made him more anxious for some reason.

When he peeked through the open door of Agdar's study, he caught a glimpse of Elsa at the former king's old desk, scribbling away with a quill, her face scrunched in concentration. _I don't know what I expected. Elsa is not the type to sit and cry over anything, let alone me._

It took him a full ten minutes to gather the courage to finally enter, playing what he would say over and over again in his head. When he finally did open the door, all that he had planned turned to mush in his head as Elsa glanced up and saw him.

"What is it, Aaron? I'm just about to head to bed for the night." Her voice was full of forced apathy.

"No… you aren't," Aaron said flatly.

Elsa put her quill down and glared at him with daggers in her eyes as if she could not believe he was telling her what to do. "Excuse me?"

"You're going to listen to me and I'm going to tell you everything. About Alexander. About me. About my mother. And when it's all over, you may think much differently about all of it, but you deserve to know it anyway. So will you listen?"

Elsa looked down for a moment as if she was thinking about it, but Aaron knew what her answer would be.

"It's about time," she finally said. She stood and came to sit on the armchair near the center of the room, crossing her legs as if this were a formal meeting. Aaron sat on the couch across from her, slowly sinking in and steeling himself, wondering where to start.

"My mother was born Alma Sung, Princess of the Salikwood, and yes, she was a Highborn," he began. "She was born with the power of life and healing, and like you, she kept her powers hidden during her childhood. Her parents feared for her safety, they feared she would be shunned as a witch. The Salikwood kingdom is in the Eastern Domain and magic is considered evil there. So my mother grew up tentative about using her powers at all. Luckily she had good control over them and she had a fairly normal life threw her childhood and teenage years."

Elsa listened intently, her deep blue eyes never leaving Aaron for a second.

"Now, where my family comes in… The Sung family was very traditional and believed in arranging marriages that would create an alliance beneficial to the kingdom. Alma's parents looked to the Sinclair family, my grandparents, who had two suitable heirs at just the right age for marriage – my father and uncle, Harold and Alexander Sinclair. Astor was a prospering kingdom at the time and would make a strong ally for the Salikwood.

"The marriage made perfect sense, and both families were agreeable to it. However, the trouble came because my grandfather, being quite fond of Alma, decided it would be a kindness to allow her to _choose_ which of his sons she would marry. With all three of them being hormonal teenagers at the time, you can imagine how that turned out.

"It wouldn't have been so bad if both my father and Alexander hadn't fallen madly in love with Alma when she first came to visit Astor. It quickly devolved into a pissing contest between the two brothers to see who could win over their beautiful princess as a prize.

"Alexander was known to have his fire powers that he was unable to control. Because of that, he was self-conscious and scared of hurting Alma. Harold was much more confident, he was charismatic and bold and much more… _normal."_ Aaron looked up sheepishly, realizing who he was speaking to, but Elsa seemed to take no offense to the word.

"Since I wasn't born yet, I don't know much other than that Alma eventually chose Harold, the older brother, and the matter was settled. Or it should have been.

"From every account I've heard about my parents' marriage, Alexander was surprisingly agreeable to it, and did his duty as a prince. He even played a part in their wedding, accepting that Alma had made her choice fairly and his older brother would take her hand. But he never fell out of love with Alma and he quietly bottled up a new resentment for his brother that he could never shake. One that still exists today, I suppose.

"The night my mother died, I brought her a flower that I had neglected, one from her home kingdom. I wanted her to bring it back to life. I always loved seeing her use her powers and… well it all went wrong." Aaron took a deep breath, reaching the point in the story that was the most painful for him to talk about.

"If I had just watered that _god damn flower._ Maybe my uncle would never have found out. He had never been able to control his fire, it was well known. People in Calidae were afraid of him even though at the time, he meant no one harm. He was a good-hearted man who was just victim to circumstance. I'm sure you can relate."

Elsa nodded. By now, she had abandoned her poise and was looking at Aaron with a gaze that made him want to go over and hug her tight.

"Alexander saw my mother use her magic. He tried to tell her it was fate and she rejected him again. Through my own arrogance and by provoking him, he accidentally burned me and then… We pushed him too far. It just kind of _happened."_

Elsa interjected, "You mean Alexander's murder of your mother was an accident?"

"I strongly believe it was not his intent. The man was not a murderer. But something happened. Veles' magic went haywire and it destroyed his mind when it flowed into him. He began to… _burn_ himself, like some kind of sick punishment for what he had done. I thought he wanted to die, right there. But Alma's magic kept him alive and the magic made him insane. Fi showed up and we ran off…

"When we returned to the castle, we found that he was not the same. He was so fierce, so strict, so commanding. We didn't know what to do, we had no choice but to obey him as he became the Fire Lord, completely obliterating the control my father had over the kingdom.

"Fi and I talked and agreed that maybe deep down, somewhere in him, our uncle was still there. We thought it might be temporary. We actually thought we'd be able to _get him back_. So we played our part as his Panther and Swan. We bided our time. And before we knew it, we had changed ourselves.

"I looked in the mirror one day and realized I was no better than him. I am by no means blameless for how everything went in Astor. And neither is Fi. I was a brat to my uncle when he was sane and then became his minion once he went mad. It was never our intent, but it was all so gradual.

"Fi and I were learning to fight to protect people, but Alexander made us his weapons. We were his niece and nephew, we were only thirteen, not mentally equipped to handle the situation, and our father was content to cower under his brother's control. Besides, we noticed quite early on that we were special. Both of us were stronger and faster than men twice our age. We were too good at what we did to do anything else. And although we tried to keep our hearts and intentions in the right place, I'm not so sure we did so.

"I've killed men, Elsa. My first when I was sixteen. A simple no-name soldier, in single combat with a training sword. It was an accident, but I'm sure it did not look that way. I misjudged a blow, just swung too high on a counter-attack, and we weren't wearing helmets. I shattered his skull in front of the rest of the men. I was never challenged again. That was the day I truly earned my reputation.

"When we were seventeen, the royal guards staged a coup. They planned to kill both my father and uncle in their sleep, but Fi caught wind of their plans and we met them on the castle steps the night of the attempt. We were all armed. I tried to talk them down, I really did. But they were stupid enough to try to fight through us. There were ten of them in total and we slaughtered them all.

"I remember being torn apart by it when the fighting was done, but Fi talked me down. 'They would've killed our family,' she told me. 'You would feel a thousand times worse if you had just let it happen.' And I suppose she was right, but it didn't change the fact that the next morning there were ten less good men in the ranks, and the White Panther and Black Swan were to blame. I do not blame them for their fear.

"Because of us, our people suffered. Our family suffered. And now here we are. I'm not a good man, Elsa. I have this darkness inside of me that I've been fighting every single day since I was thirteen. Sometimes, I'm not sure I'm winning that fight."

Elsa blinked as she processed all she had just been told. Finally she stood and sat beside Aaron on the sofa, placing a tentative hand on his back. "Everything you've done has been for a reason, Aaron. I know that. Maybe you aren't perfect. But look where you are. Look what you're trying to do. All that matters to me is that you're _trying_."

Aaron couldn't even begin to explain how relieved he was to hear that she still believed in him and that she could see the good in him. "I promise to keep trying. And I'm going to make all of this right by helping you."

Elsa nodded as he met her eyes. "I have to ask, though. Why did you keep all of this from me?"

Aaron shook his head. "I guess it's complicated. Besides the fact that it's hard to speak about my mother, I just never wanted to own up to the role I played in everything that's happened to you. I didn't want to be known as the son of a Highborn. I didn't want you to think _less_ of me. And I felt that you were better off not knowing any of it. My uncle is a lost cause. I know that you might take pity on him if you knew that he was not always this monster, and that will only hold you back. Any semblance of my uncle's humanity has been obliterated or is so far buried that he will never come back to it."

"But if Alexander went mad, will killing him do the same to me?" Elsa asked with concern. "If I go mad with all of our magic together, there is no hope for the rest of you."

"That I don't know," Aaron replied. "But I do think that Veles was to blame for what happened to my uncle. Besides, I believe that you are strong-minded enough to handle it. And you'll be prepared. Alexander was not. It's a risk we have to take either way."

Elsa paused and nodded slowly, adding a new thing to the list of her worries. She suddenly buried her face in Aaron's side, wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you, Aaron. I finally feel like I truly know you. The _real_ you. And I…" she choked on the word, not able to bring herself to say it.

Aaron put his arm around her and ran a hand through her soft hair. "I know. I love you too."

Elsa made no response besides to squeeze him a bit tighter. When she looked up at him, there was a moment when their eyes locked and it was like they were seeing each other for the first time. They leaned toward each other and kissed, a fleeting, tender moment where nothing else mattered but each other, and when they pulled away they felt as though they were floating in a sea of soft snow.

But sadness overtook them both simultaneously and reality set in. "We can't," they both said at the exact same time. A moment of relief was plain on both of their faces, and they would have laughed if they weren't both so close to crying.

"Arendelle needs us both right now," Elsa said, pulling gingerly away.

Aaron wanted nothing more than to say, _To hell with Arendelle, and Astor, and everyone who's not us, let's just leave it all behind together._

Instead, he nodded.

"You told me you had some plan before," said Elsa. "What was it?"

Aaron remembered his conversation with Lorne Blackwater. "I was thinking. During the Great Freeze, it was said that the entire harbor or Arendelle was frozen solid. Do you think you could recreate that?"

Elsa nodded confidently. "I think at this point, absolutely."

Aaron smiled slyly. "Then how high do you think you could build a wall of ice?"

* * *

**A/N: Split this one into two parts. Hope you enjoyed. Also WE'VE HIT 100,000 WORDS. I can't believe how large this gotten, and I really am glad to see it's still being read. Every once in a while I get a new person sending me a message giving me their thoughts, and I really do appreciate that. Happy reading!**


	28. Darkness and Light

It was too quiet; she decided that was the worst part. The loneliness was as familiar to her as an old friend, and even the sense of captivity was not so bad once she accepted it. But the skull-penetrating silence was the only thing that threatened to break her.

She climbed the steps of stone once more and stared up into the black abyss. Her wrinkled, dark brown cloak swirled at her feet as she walked, its hood concealing her forgotten face, a face she hardly remembered. When she reached the floating island of rock at the top, she sighed. The same. It was always the same. _But if I stop looking, I may never know anything different._

Her island was made of a sleek gray stone, embedded with silvery-white gems that sparkled, even when there was no light to reflect. She had never seen its like on Earth, coarse and hard and strangely beautiful, but the island was a prison nonetheless. The platform hovered with nothing above and nothing below to support it, only darkness that stretched into infinity. Sometimes it seemed to move, but she could never be sure if that was only her imagination, or some trick, or simply her mind beginning to fail her.

This was her home, a lonely, tiny little world in a sea of black and gray - and it was also her Hell.

The island was connected to another by a long, floating staircase of the same stone, winding up and up, twisting and turning in dimensions that seemed impossible. When she first looked up, she could barely make out what lay at the top. Whatever it was always looked so much further away than it really was, a tiny speck in the distance.

Once she began the climb, the time passed in the blink of an eye, if time existed in this place at all, and she found herself there again, back where she started, and she wondered if she had ever even moved at all. The island at the top of the stairs was always identical down to the last forsaken stone. On the other side was just another staircase, and in the middle the same fountain of light streamed up from the stony ground, shimmering with an evil beauty.

She had looked into that light many times and seen many things, good and bad, but for now she was too exhausted to bother herself with the plights of men. Instead, she sat on the edge of her island and meditated as she turned her back on the light and faced endless darkness.

A sudden feeling of dread overcame her as she sensed a presence and she squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation. A glowing white tiger with shimmering green eyes appeared from the light behind her and creeped in her direction. Wistfully, she lowered her head and let a golden curl fall in front of her face.

"Don't be so dramatic, Agatha Paddick," the tiger said as it stalked over to her, its ethereal eyes boring into her skull and making her hear its thoughts in a high shrill voice. "Here I was thinking you were coming to enjoy your new home."

Agatha scoffed at that notion, but she knew better than to respond. Speaking to Veles was like speaking to Borus about a war story. It would circle round and round and no real answers were ever spoken, only the same stubborn half-answers. "This realm suits you, Agatha Paddick," it said as it sat beside her and licked its paw. "It is as brooding and dull as you have become."

"Realm?" Agatha scoffed. "Aye, that's a nice name fer it, Veles. I call it a shithole."

Veles made a sound like a deranged purring. "This is a realm of magic, Agatha Paddick. It has always -"

"Spare me, please," Agatha interrupted, not bothering to mask the impatience in her voice. "No matter how many times ya explain it to me, I understand it less than the time before. And I don't care. I know enough. I know I can't leave. That's all that matters to me."

Veles just hummed and turned away, and Agatha bristled.

Agatha Paddick remembered how angry she had been when she first awoke in this place with Veles' eyes hovering over her in an amorphous puff of white smoke, the relief of death sinking away into oblivion. "Why have you brought me here!? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" she had screamed in a blind rage before sinking to her knees in hopeless sobs. "I should be with my parents... I should be with _Borus_..."

But Veles had merely laughed that shrill, mocking laugh, and told her there were things she still needed to witness. "There is nothing beyond this, Agatha Paddick. Had I not brought you here, you would be gone forever," he had said. "Is that not what all humans fear? Disappearing forever? You should be happy Agatha Paddick. It will be so fascinating here. Wait and see."

Then he had walked into the light and disappeared, leaving her there with nothing but questions in this dark, lonely place.

The first thing she noticed was her body. She was no longer the old woman she'd been in death. This was the body she had when she had set off adventuring all those decades ago, lean and tough and tall, with a face that was plain, but strong, and a cascade of golden hair. The shock of being able to walk without a stunted gait was pleasant at first, for all the good it did her. She wandered aimlessly, only to soon discover there was nowhere to go, but at least she did so without a constant limp.

Other islands began to appear shortly after her arival, winking into existence off in the distance. Some were closer than others, all made of the same gray stone as her own. Their formations varied from pebbles to humongous land masses, but all were too far away for her to reach, and they all seemed to shift and rearrange themselves when Agatha was not looking. She never quite knew if she was looking at the same one she was before and it seemed even blinking caused her surroundings to change. Eventually she gave up and accepted that it wasn't worth trying to find her bearings in this hopeless void.

Agatha Paddick had walked for a long time at first. She climbed the infinite stairs and tried not to succumb to madness. She no longer felt hunger, and she missed the taste of food; She no longer slept, but she missed her dreams; She no longer felt cold, but she would instinctively pull her cloak tighter from time to time, if only to remember. She was no longer human if truth be told, and when that realization sunk in, she could hardly bear it.

Once, while overtaken by deep dread, she stood on the edge of her island with her back to the darkness and closed her eyes. With one final breath, she leaned back to embrace the abyss, ready to end it all. The island floated up and away from her and she fell into infinite. For a long while she felt nothing as the blackness engulfed her like a warm blanket.

But she did not die. The deeper she sunk, the more it felt like she was floating, and eventually she opened her eyes to find herself laying face-up on the island once again next to the fountain of light. She could have sworn she heard a faint voice giggling somewhere in her head. She knew then that she was truly trapped.

Sometimes Agatha would see black creatures lurking on the other islands, dark shadowy beings with no faces. They would always skitter away when she looked too closely, but she always knew they were there. The only time she had seen one stick around long enough to get a good glimpse of, it had slowly morphed into an image of herself. She had raised an arm and called to it, and the thing had mirrored her perfectly. It copied her every motion as if to mock her for a while until eventually it dissolved into the stone beneath it, gurgling freakishly in a way that made Agatha shudder.

Agatha had not known what Veles had wanted her to witness when he brought her here. However, she began to have ideas the first time she looked into the light and had a vision of a birth - little Elsa of Arendelle, a princess with platinum white hair, born during the day of the biggest snowstorm the North had seen in more than a century. It became a thing of legend to all of the Northern domain.

The entire Northern fjord had been buried in an unusual snow for weeks. The snow was said to have been so cold and heavy it could not be melted or moved and its intensity put the whole kingdom in a state of emergency.

Amidst the ensuing chaos a baby was born in the highest tower of the castle of Arendelle, said to be brought into the world clutching a snowflake, with skin cold as ice even though she was perfectly healthy.

Ever since, the king and queen had kept that baby sheltered and secret, bringing curiously little attention to the birth of their heir, and even less as she grew older. Many people had their theories, but Agatha would have known the truth. Now, gazing into the light, she witnessed it first-hand. Elsa was one of the most powerful Highborn she had known in all of her research. Her power was enough to change the world.

Elsa's birth was the third Highborn brought to Earth less than two decades apart from one another. Agatha's thoughts had immediately gone to the second - her Queen and close friend, Alma Sinclair, who she had served until what was supposed to be her death. _I left her, right when she needed me the most,_ she thought.

Her concern turned out to be warranted. When she witnessed Alma's death, Agatha had wept bitter tears, just like those she had wept when Borus was murdered. She could not fathom the thought that Alma's downfall would be her brother-in-law, that timid man whom Agatha considered harmless and even boring, Highborn though he was.

Agatha always suspected that two Highborn in the same castle was going to set the stage for whatever Veles was planning, but as it turned out the arrangement had no complications for all the years Agatha lived there. In the end, the magic in Alexander had been a seed placed there by Veles, and the plant it grew into was something hideous.

As she sat in deep meditation, memories of Agatha's friendship to Queen Alma were all that occupied her mind. She had come to Astor already an old woman and well after Alma had married into the Sinclair family line. The Queen had taken to her and she immediately felt like the childhood friend Agatha never had. Unlike with other kings and queens Agatha had served, her loyalty was no act with the Sinclair family.

Miracles were never all that special to Agatha - she had seen her fair share in her travels. But Alma's power was something else entirely. Agatha had seen her revive entire fields of crop with a touch, cause the most brown and brittle trees to bloom green again, and even bring a human life back from the brink of death. It was truly a special gift, and a shame she kept it so secret, only sharing it with Agatha, her husband, and her children.

Alma's untimely demise had left the world a bleaker place. Agatha knew that Alexander was going to be the Black King that Veles planted for his sick game of chess against himself, a game that used human lives as the pieces. The only question was who would be opposing him.

Agatha had looked to Alma's children then, little Aaron and Sophie. She always knew the twins would be important in the conflict to come. Their strength was striking from a young age, both in the physical and mental sense. Though she never realized just how big a part they would play. Agatha often still wondered which side that part would ultimately be for.

Now, as the pieces were finally set and the war was nearly here, Agatha only wished she could lend Elsa and Aaron the wisdom she had been giving Highborn her whole life. _It is a sick joke that the ones who needed me the most was born right as my life was fading away..._

But Elsa was strong, that much was plain. Agatha watched her whenever she could stomach to look down at Earth, and the Snow Queen never ceased to amaze her. She fought with a passion that reminded her of a certain other princess she once knew, even holding her own against Aaron Sinclair, and she ruled Arendelle with a sense of duty and honor that was rare in the dark times that had been cast upon the world.

Agatha could not have been more glad when the girl had first cracked open A History of Royal Magic and read her life's work. Never again would it be more prudent than in the hands of this White Queen.

Though Elsa was far from perfect. _That sister of hers will be the unsung hero of the ages once all is told, I think._ Anna truly reminded Agatha of herself in her youth, although not quite so hardened. Agatha had watched in disbelief during the Great Freeze and had nearly given up on Elsa when she sheltered herself at the North Mountain.

But Anna spared them from that fate and in doing so, may have saved more than just Arendelle from destruction. _Only together will they be strong enough for this, that is certain._

And then there was Sophie. Sweet, fierce Sophie. Agatha was never quite sure what to make of the girl, even when she was a child playing knights with her brother, swinging a stick twice the size of her body. In a way, she considered her to be a bigger threat than Alexander himself.

While he was no idiot, Alexander would always rely on brute force to get what he wanted. The man had hardly been challenged since his ascent to power, but Sophie was different. She was cunning, careful, and loyal to her people. Worst of all, she was decent and convinced she was doing the right thing.

_The worst kind of enemy is one who does not want to fight._ Agatha only wished she could read the girl's mind. Veles' light allowed her to see anywhere on Earth and even granted her some flexibility in time, but it did not make Agatha omnipotent. Sophie was still an enigma even to her.

The choices the princess was faced with were not easy. How does one choose between her twin and her kingdom? Her father or her morals? Was serving a man like Alexander worth protecting her people? These were questions Agatha could not begin to answer, much less at the age of twenty-three. If only she could _speak_ to her, or Aaron, or _anybody_.

But she could not. She could do nothing but observe, helpless and anxious. _A time may come where that is not the case, or else Veles would not bother with me. I have to keep watching and waiting. I have to._

With that thought, Agatha's eyes bolted open. She stood and began walking towards the fountain of light at the center of her island, following the beam that shot up over the stones and into the abyss.

When she reached it, she did not hesitate to plunge herself within the Light. Then all she had to do was let herself be taken and watch.

Agatha was never sure just how the Light functioned. Sometimes she was able to will herself to a certain place at a certain time, while other times the Light would simply take her somewhere and she would be powerless to see anything else. Right now she was content to simply observe what the Light showed her.

When an image finally appeared before her, it was not what she was expecting. It was an enormous and extravagent dining hall where a dinner table the length of a house was occupied by what looked to be a royal family at a meal. Each and every seat was occupied, fifteen in total, by red-headed brawny men with handsome faces and an air arrogance about them. _The Westerguards..._ Agatha knew them, though not well.

All were men except for the Queen mother, positioned at the far end hunched over her plate looking tired old crone. She might have been beautiful in her youth, but the years and the plethora of children appeared to have taken their toll on her, and Agatha expected the cup she was sipping from was not filled with lemon juice.

Across from her was the King of the Southern Isles, a fat pig-headed man with a pug nose and thin red strings of hair covering his balding scalp. "Jericho," he barked to one of his thirteen sons across the table, who immediately snapped to attention. "I hear you're thinking of taking a trip to the Southern Domain soon. Tell me about it."

The man dabbed his face with a napkin, looking a bit surprised. "Oh, that? I changed my mind. It turns out the South is boiling this time of year, I've decided my time would be better spent in the shade." He nodded further down the table to one of his brothers, the only one Agatha knew by name. "But ask Hans. He's apparently going there again on one of his... oh, what do you call those, mission trips?"

"Guilt trips, I'd call 'em," another of the brothers chimed in, garnering a few mocking chuckles.

Hans didn't seem to have been paying attention. His eyes were thoroughly trained on the plate of fish in front of him. When he finally reacted, he put down his fork on his full plate and leaned back in his chair, never raising his eyes. "Yes. I... I leave tomorrow, actually. I thought you knew that, Father."

The King scoffed. "I can't be arsed to keep track of all my sons' travels and affairs. You've all got so many, most of all you, Hans. It seems like you've been gallavanting all around the world ever since your little stunt in Arendelle. What is it this time? Feeding the poor again?"

"Something like that," replied Hans.

Agatha could see right through his lies. Hans could spin a pretty tale about his charitable endeavors, but she knew his ship would be sailing West, not South. He was off to Astor for the start of the invasion, probably summoned by Alexander whose fleet was at the ready. Hans was going off to war and his family was oblivious as ever.

"Just make sure you don't get kidnapped by savages. We all know how the South can be," piped up another brother across from Hans, a huge man with a round face. "Or if you do, at least do us a favor and die down there, we don't need you coming back dressed in a loin cloth and singing about some Moon God." More snickering ensued, but Hans did not look amused.

"You joke, but you _do_ realize how dangerous it actually is in the South, don't you? I mean I could... what if I don't come back? Would you all laugh then?"

"Only if we found out you'd suffocated on pig shit," the one named Jericho said.

"Maybe suffocating on pig shit is worth it for a cause you believe in," Hans retaliated. "But none of you would know that. None of you care about anything but sitting here safe and sound in the Southern Isles, brooding away in this castle. I'm the only one in this family that would put my life on the line to do something big in this world."

An awkward silence overtook the table as nobody knew quite how to respond, although it was short-lived.

"Good lord, you're so dramatic Hansy," another brother chimed in. "I wouldn't worry if I was you. I'm sure your stunning kindness and warmth will be enough to ward off any danger comes your way. Just pull out your massive, sparkling cock made of gold and I'm sure all your troubles'll disappear." The table erupted in laughter.

Hans shook his head and looked down at his mother, who simply picked at her food and took another sad sip. He scooted his chair across the wooden floor noisily. "I'd better pack my things," he muttered and stood. For a quick moment he surveyed the table. "Good luck to you all. Try not to choke on your own tongues while I'm gone."

With that, he stormed from the dining hall while his brothers shook their heads and sneered.

Agatha followed the youngest Westerguard prince out of curiosity as he stomped down to the courtyard where his master-at-arms was inspecting a rack of weapons.

"Sword," he demanded with an outstretched hand. Without missing a beat, the man unhooked a blade from the rack and tossed it to Hans who immediately ripped its sheath off and began wailing on an archery target next to him as if it were his most hated enemy. Shreds of linen and yarn flew in all directions as Hans hacked the thing to pieces, grunting as he did it. The master-at-arms just stared in half-amusement half-anxiety, leaning his back against the rack with folded arms.

When Hans was finished, he chucked the sword to the ground and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. When he noticed the man staring at him, he inspected him for a moment and then reached into a pocket.

"Samson, how long have you been our master-at-arms?" he asked.

The man grunted. "Longer'n I care to admit, your highness. Hell, I was teaching you how to fight when you were just a wee little tike. And I ain't never seen you swing a sword like that before. Thought you was gonna start steaming from the ears for a second. Something the matter then?"

Hans didn't answer. He instead pulled a large pouch from his pocket, heavy with coin. He tossed it to Samson who nearly dropped it from the weight and his eyes went wide.

"That's enough gold to buy a home with," Hans said and his face grew very serious, almost meloncholy. "Get out of here. You're a good man. My family doesn't deserve such loyal service. Make something of yourself. God knows you won't be appreciated here."

Samson clearly had no idea how to respond.

"I'm serious," Hans continued. "If there's anything you've wanted to do, _anything_ , go do it. Open your own shop, travel the world, become a monk, it doesn't matter. Just don't give your time and energy to the Westerguards any more. Don't waste yourself. Not like I did."

Hans didn't wait for an answer, he simply turned away and began walking back to the gates of the castle. "Oh, one more thing," he added. "If I don't return from my trip, tell my family I suffocated on pig shit, will you?" Then he was gone.

The master-at-arms just stood there for a long while and stared at the gold in his hands, and for a moment Agatha thought he was about to cry.

If he did, she never saw. A flash suddenly blinded her as the courtyard faded away and a vision of Arendelle forced itself into her mind.

Suddenly Agatha could see Elsa in a cloak embroidered with the sigil of Arendelle standing with Anna, Aaron, and Kristoff on a dock in the middle of the harbor as the clouds churned grey and angry above them. Elsa's hands were outstretched and her eyes were glowing white. Blue particles of magical ice and wind and snow swirled around her, whipping around her hair and sleeves like sails in a storm.

Behind the four of them, the entire royal guard surrounded the dock to keep back a massive crowd of Arendelle's citizens who were gathered there, straining and pushing to catch a glimpse of their queen at work.

"You've got this, Elsa!" Kristoff called out from their spot about ten feet behind her. "Just don't overthink it!"

"Trying to concentrate here, Kristoff!" Elsa barked without moving. Anna elbowed him in the chest for that, but continued to stare at her sister intensely.

The queen clenched her jaw and the storm above grew even more intimidating. Agatha could see some of the citizens eyeing it wearily. Snow was falling gently and small jolts of lightning began to decorate the grey clouds.

Then all at once, something gave way. The water around Elsa's spot on the dock suddenly froze as the magic emenated outward from her body. With a _crackle_ it spread exponentially until the water was a solid sheet of ice thirty feet out from the dock.

"It's working!" Anna gasped. "Kristoff, look!"

Agatha had heard about the plan that Kristoff had come up with when it was first proposed to freeze the harbor. Trade had been halted entirely as the days grew shorter and the city was stocking up on food and supplies.

The smaller boats that were normally docked in the harbor had all been taken north to the fishing villages or put in storage, and the larger ships of the royal navy had been mounted by a massive pulley system placed at the docks where they hung five meters above the water with their sails taken down. Not only did this keep them from being damaged by the frozen water, but it allowed for a strategic line of defense at the docks where archers could be mounted on high ground. Agatha could not have come up with a better strategy if she was there herself.

The only doubt was if Elsa could freeze the harbor without making it too cold to fight, or burying the city in a blizzard. Elsa was adept at summoning storms and cold, but keeping it measured and focused this way was something she had never really tried. Aaron was confident that her abilities had come along enough, but the risk of disaster was something that had not escaped notice when the plan first went into motion. Everyone's trust had been placed in the queen, and it all came down to this moment.

A surge of magic washed over the harbor and radiated into the fjord with a pulse. Within minutes, the entire fjord was encased in ice just as it had been more than three years ago, and the second Great Freeze was upon Arendelle.

Elsa closed her eyes and focused her magic. The storm began to disperse, but the ice remained. When she opened her eyes again they no longer glowed, but they looked full of relief when Elsa realized she had done it.

A burst of cheers and applause roared up from the crowd. "Queen Elsa!" they cheered. "Arendelle! Elsa! Our glorious Snow Queen!"

"It's _perfect_ ," Aaron yelled amidst the celebration as he ran down to inspect the ice. In a daring display of trust, he immediately jumped down onto the frozen water and landed solidly without a hint of unease. "Let's see Alexander's ships reach the castle this way." He walked out and stood below Elsa on the dock. "We aren't done yet, though. Are you okay?" he asked.

Elsa nodded as she hunched over, putting her hands on her knees. "Easy...as cake..." she panted.

Aaron smiled. "Come on then. It's a long walk to the edge of the fjord and we should get going as soon as possible. Kristoff, get the citizens moved back and have Captain Holdt gather the guard to come with us." Kristoff immediately saluted and ran back to disperse the crowd. The royal guard started hearding the people away from the harbor as Captain Holdt barked for his men. Soldiers started rounding up and moving back towards the castle, and the entire harbor was once again abuzz with activity.

Aaron began to walk out further onto the ice when he heard an _ahem_ from behind him. When he turned around, Elsa was sitting on the dock with her arms outstretched, all of a sudden playing the dainty maiden. Agatha couldn't help but feel amused at the contrast to only a minute before.

Aaron's face grew red as he walked over and helped Elsa down onto the ice, pulling her into his arms. He put her down carefully as if he were handling a miniature ship made of glass. "Don't slip," he reminded her which garnered a look of amusement from the queen.

Agatha noticed that as soon as her feet touched down, the ice below her them morphed to form a perfect pocket in the shape of the boots she was wearing, making slipping totally out of the realm of possibility.

Just when Aaron seemed to realize what a stupid statement that was, Anna came flying down from the docks and landed on his shoulders, causing him to jolt forward with a surprised grunt. "Onward!" she shouted as she pointed with one hand and grasped Aaron's head with the other as if he were her mighty steed. Agatha was amazed he hadn't fallen.

The former prince couldn't help but smile once he regained his composure. He grasped the princess' ankles, and the three of them walked down the iced-over harbor with Captain Holdt and the royal guard in tow.

The rest of that afternoon Agatha watched as they constructed the wall. That part came much more easily to Elsa. She always did have the mind of an architect, and constructing a simple chunk of ice was not nearly as difficult a task for her, despite the grand size of it. She almost seemed to be having fun, adjusting the wall's measurements with a delighted flick of her wrist.

Aaron did not want the wall too high, just enough that ships wouldn't be able to easily lob projectiles or mount planks to seige it. The plan was to mount men on the top and pick off the initial wave of ships with arrow volleys and trebuchets. Aaron was confident that they could hold the wall and starve the army out as long as Alexander or Sophie didn't have any tricks up his sleeve. _Somehow I expect they will._

In order to reach the top, Elsa constructed massive steps on both far sides of the wall that spanned the entire narrow section of the frozen fjord; the ocean beyond remained untouched by her magic.

_If only she could freeze the entire ocean,_ thought Agatha. But even a Highborn as powerful as Elsa had her limits. Still, thousands of feet of ice as well as a solid wall now separated the castle and city from anywhere Alexander's fleet could reasonably reach and Agatha was hopeful. The defense was finally mounted and the city was prepared. All that was left to do was to wait.

But Agatha was not afforded the luxury of waiting.

The Light ripped her away across the sea, and suddenly she was with Sophie Sinclair, somewhere deep within the dimly lit palace of Calidae in the kingdom of Astor.

The princess was tying her pitch black hair back in front of a mirror in her bedchamber, her intense green eyes staring at her own reflection hungrily. Her hair had grown very long since Agatha had last seen her, falling well past her shoulders. A strand of it fell in front of one eye and Sophie blew it upward with a sigh of frustration. _She looks just like her mother._

Agatha watched the princess of Astor eye a crimson and gold tiara laying on her bed. It had belonged to her Alma Sinclair and Agatha remembered it well. Without her glasses, Sophie was her mother's spitting image. She had her olive skin and slender nose, her elegant cheek bones and tall, thin physique.

But Sophie's eyes were different. They were darker, suspicious, full of torment and rage. They were overflowing with pain and uncertainty. They were the eyes of a murderer.

Sophie picked the tiara up, but she did not wear it. Instead she placed it in the highest drawer of her dresser carefully and chose a red beret to keep her hair back. She donned her glasses, and then it was time to become the Black Swan.

After her silk underclothes, Sophie wore a black jerkin made of fine leather and tight wool pants. Over that she wore silver mail specially fitted to her body, along with a pair of finely made black boots and gloves streaked with gold. She covered her shoulders with a black cloak embroidered with the red flame of Astor, its fine cloth falling past her waist. Finally, she pinned the royal flame sigil to her breast to signify her rank.

From her wardrobe she retrieved her weapon, a broad rapier forged from the finest steel in Astor. Its hilt gleamed with fire and gold. Its name was Black Panther. As it hung from Sophie's hip, it transformed her from a princess to a commander.

When Sophie walked down the winding marble staircase of the palace, she did so slowly, as if she were savoring every step. At the outside gates she came upon her uncle, staring out over the entire city of Calidae on the hill which the palace stood, down to the harbor where the fleet was amassed. The water seemed alive with fire as the ships sails were erected, proudly displaying the sigil of Astor in a menacing mob. Two hundred ships and ten times as many soldiers were preparing to embark on the biggest invasion the Northern Domain had ever seen.

Alexander Sinclair had never been one for appearances, but today he looked like a proper king. He was clad in red and black armor from the neck down and his hair long hair was tied back so his maimed face could be seen clearly in the sunlight. Massive pauldrons exaggerated his size and made him appear twice as big as he was. He wore bracers but no gauntlets, and his huge hands seemed to be pulsing with his magic. But for some reason, Agatha also sensed a hint of sadness upon his face.

He gave no word of greeting to Sophie as she approached stone-faced. "You are fully aware of the plan, correct?" he asked.

"I'm insulted you have to ask, Uncle," Sophie retorted. "I helped _create_ the plan."

Alexander's nostrils flared, but he showed no other signs of anger. He never made eye contact with his neice, he simply stared out over the city. "I'll let your attitude slide for today, Sophie. I know things are tense. That's why I'll be sailing with you and your Father until we reach Arendelle. I want to stay near you and my brother for the journey."

Sophie looked a bit taken aback. Agatha had heard enough from Alexander to know that he never called Sophie by her real name, much less while expressing concern for his family. His tone was almost too calm and soft.

"Shouldn't we spread the command out, Uncle? Your men-"

"I switched some things around," Alexander cut her off. "I've given the Westerguard prince active command of the second wave of ships. Once Arendelle is in sight I will join him for the main attack. Meanwhile Efreet will stay with you and the leading forces. Use him well."

Sophie's eyes narrowed very slightly. _He does not trust her,_ Agatha thought. _The only family to stick by him, and he still does not trust her._

For just an instant Sophie looked speechless, even insulted, but she quickly reverted back to her casual demeanor and scoffed. "Whatever you say, Lord Uncle," she finally said with a cold bite to her words. "I should be going. Father needs my help getting situated in the ship. I'll have the men ready to go by the time you arrive. That is, unless those idiots have managed to sink _more_ ships by the time I get down there." She began to walk away with a nonchalant wave.

"Whatever happens, remember, the queen is mine," Alexander said to her back. "And if Aaron is there, if he gets in the way..."

Sophie halted at the mention of her brother and half turned toward him.

"I'm leaving him to you," Alexander finished.

There was a pause. " _Heh_ ," Sophie forced a laugh. "Good. We have a score to settle." Then she began the long treck through the city.

At the docks, the princess boarded her ship; the largest battleship of the royal navy, black and gold in color, a beast of a vessel that loomed over the rest like a giant among dwarves. She quietly slipped through the ranks of soldiers on deck and escaped to the bowels of the ship where a hulking dark-skinned soldier with a bald head was tending to her father. She wasn't surprised to see Harold was laying already seasick in his chambers. The man was white as snow and slick with sweat, but Agatha had seen him worse.

"Sophie...there you are," he said as his daughter came to his side. The soldier backed away and stood guard at the door, a somber look frozen on his face.

"Are we...going to see my son?" Harold wheezed.

Agatha's heart dropped like a stone. The man had little grasp on reality at this point. She stared into Sophie's eyes, wondering what she would say.

For almost a full minute, Sophie said nothing, she simply stared.

Then, to Agatha's surprise, something in Sophie seemed to break as well.

Tears welled up in the princess' eyes and flooded her face all at once and she ripped her glasses from her face. She knelt next to the bed and took Harold's hand into her own. "Yes, Father...We are," she choked out. "You'll see him soon. You'll be with Aaron soon, I promise. I promise. _I promise_..." Then she buried her face into Harold's side and wept.

Agatha never knew how long Sophie stayed there. Slowly, it all faded away and Agatha found herself back on her island, staring into blackness with the Light behind her. If she still had the capabilty to cry, she would have in that moment.

_The pieces are all finally set_ , she reflected.

_Alexander Sinclair, the black king._

_Elsa of Arendelle, the white queen._

_Sophie Sinclair, the black knight._

_Aaron Sinclair, the white knight._

_Hans Westerguard, the black rook._

_Desmond Holdt, the white rook._

_Harold Sinclair, the black pawn._

_Anna of Arendelle, the white pawn._

_"Now the game begins,"_ a voice called out to her from nowhere. " _Let's watch, shall we Agatha Paddick?"_

* * *

**Sorry about the delay. We are finally here.**

**Go read the prologue again, because it has probably been a while and it is FINALLY relevant! The Battle of Arendelle is underway. Thanks for reading!**


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